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Interior of Um Tasip]« Cbareh. 



1 385.'51 




CII.— THE TEMPLE CHURCH. No. II. . , . „ • 




evil.— THE EXCISE OFFICE J. C. Platt 


CIX.-COVENT GARDEN J. Saonobbs 4 J. 










SOCIETIES J. Sadmders 






C. Platt 










7>octon' Comraoni, & mTtterious localilj . 
Th« Lod^ of Doctora* CommDns 
The Port«n at Doelon' Commout . . 
The Ro;«i Wtrdrobe .... 
The Kftir Mud of Kent .... 
Kuight Rider Street .... 

Hen,Id't CoUeye 

The ?rerO|$mUTe Will Office . 

Scene in ttie interior of Doctori' Commont 

The tvro Prcro^tire Courts . . 

Introduction of the Funding 8)ttem 

locreue in the businen of lioctoni' Coramo&B 

nnce the jear 1789 .... 

Shik«perf>'s Will 

Origiuftl Wills in DoctorB* Comnioni 
Conneuon between the Church and Wills 
Lcc-lciiaJtieal Juriidiction in Testamentary Caiuf 
£udeavours of the frieilbood, after the Eata 

Miahmcnl of Cliristianil;, to obtain authority 

in temporal, *» well aa in Hii)rltual» affair* 
Earlieat Eo^liah Ccclctiaalical Court* catabUahed 

by William the Conqueror , . , 

The pATtiat authority of the Canon Law eata 

blivhed by the Eccle»iaatics . ■ • 

The Coart of Archei .... 
The CoDaisiory Court of the Bishop of London 
The Court of Admir&lty . . . • 

interior of the Common Hall of the College 
C«aes brought before the Court of Archer • 
Penance for Defamation, still la practice in loan 

p«rU of EngUod .... 

B^ort of the nature of llio busiueai iu the Court 

Of Arches 




Mode of prooedura in the Arches' Court . 8 

Chaucer a Sumpnour ■ • . . • 8 

Statement of the Bank Solicitor to the Commla- 

■lonera ■••...* ft 
Value of Crosi- Examination in Conrts of Justice 9 
Doctors of Civil Law . . . . .10 
Dr, Henry Hnrvcy, the founder of Doctora* Com- 
mons . . . , . . .10) 
Ceremony of the adiuimon of Doctora to practue 

&a Advurateii at Doctors' Cummona . , 10 

Adroiaaion of Proctors to practise at Doctors' 

Commons >...... 10 

The syatem of Appeal one of the legal beauties of 

the Ecclesiastical Courts . . . .10 

Sot^ea through which ati Appeal eomeiimes pasoee 11 
iiUl brought before Parliameot for abolishing the 

abuses of Doctors' Commons . . .11 

Outline of the measure of Reform of the £ccl»> 

aiastical Courts now before Parliament . .11 

J'urlsdiction of the High Court of Admiralty , 13 
The Instance Court ..... 1) 

Tlic Price Court U 

Pecidiur position of the Judge of the Admiralty 13 
LuTil Stowull at the head of the Admiralty Court 

through the most eventful period of the last 

great vni ....... IS 

Case of the ship ■ Mlnerra,' as related by Lord 

StOMreU U 

Judgment of Lord Stowell in the ' Miaerva' suit 13 
The name of Arches' Court derived from the 

archei below Bow Church, Cbeapslde . .10 

Original ctiniiexion belwccn the Court of Arches 

and Bow Church •. « , « . IS 


1 PrerogatiTc Will Office 

9. Hail of Doctors' Coramona ...... 

9w VtiU7.r<K)ffl, formerly Court of Arehc^ St. Mory-le-Bow 





Impulse to the public taste given by the Rcatora- 

lioD of the Temple Church . . . .17 
Character of the Exterior of the Temple Church 

oeeofdaat with the character of its founders IB 

DIAmeea of style which prerail in the Rotunda 

and Chancel of the Temple Church .IS 

The Round 19 

Uentomtiou of the Effigies In' the Temple Church 30 
Efflgy of William Pembroke the younger, Id the 

Temple Church 30 

SoiTophagi discoTered beneath the paTeroent of 

the Temple Church 31 

Frewnt anwigemeni of the Effigies ia ihe Tem|ile 

Cbtirch . . « • » a • 11 

Aisles of the Round 31 

Meeds in the left Aisle of the Round . 33 
Idea that the heads in the Round are probably 

intended to couTcy 33 

Pillars in the Round 34 

Pavement in the Round 3d 

Taste fur Eastern magniQcencc acquired by the 

Crusaders In their risits to the Holy Land . 3d 
The early Church Reformers . .36 

The oblong portiun of itie Temple Church . 36 

First Impreuion on colering the Temple Church 37 

Banners in the Temple Church . . . 27 

InscriptioDs on the walls of the Temple Church . 36 

neoormtions of the roof of the Temple Chur<^ . 38 


Tb6 oetktml Window of th« Temple Church . 38 
Hlitury attached to the Organ in the Temple 

Church' 29 

Preicnt poaiiiun of the Organ . * . .29 

Buit of Lord Tliurlow la ibe Vestry-room of th« 

Temple Church 30 

Bfflgy of PUiwilca 30 

Portreiti of the Kioi*s in tbe arehca between the 
Cbtncel and the Rotunda . . ... 

Penwns employed in the di!cor«tionf of the 
Tfimple Cburch • 

Prewnl tUU of the Cathedreli in England 

Pouible progren of Art in England • . « 




4. The Temple Churt^h from the South . . 
A. The Temple Church Interior from the Eutruico 
6. The Butem Window. Altar, &c„ Temple Church 






External Paper.bangeri* Station* • . .33 

The ' Hanging Cominitteo ' of London . . 33 
Holt fiiahlonablc pUcea In London for the exbl. 

bitions of the Han^ng Committee . , 33 

AttrwtWeehnrocterof the objects exhibited b; the 

Hanging Committee . , . . . 3t 
Liberties taken by modern Playvrrigbts with the 

Chronicles of contemporary Ncwspapora . 31 

Ulillly uf tlie Oruamc-nts ivhich ndoru the stations 

of the exterual Piipcr- bangers . . .31 

HerUiU, the tint advertising mediums * ■ 35 

Towit Dninaiaers ••••.• 35 

Town Bellmen 35 

MatLQicnpt Placard! . . . . .35 

BefioemcDt to which ibo art of AdTcrtisiiig hu 

been carried in London . . . .35 

Adrertisements, direct and ludiieel, explicit and 

by iuuendo . ..... 35 

Various Tebicles of AdTertisementa, and forms 

which Advertisements assume io London in the 

present day ...... 3tf 

The appearance of the external Paper-hanger . 36 
Distinction between the real Artist and the mer« 

mechanical external Paper-hanger . . 30 

BUl-diatribuIors 36 

Disdnetton between the BiU>8licker and the BiU- 

distributor ...... 36 

FeripBlctic Flocarda 37 

Vehicular Placards 37 

Tlie AdTertising Hat . . . . , 38 

Advertising Vans . . . . , .38 

Mewipaper AdTertisemonta • . , .31) 

Dramniic Interest ronnected with the Adrertislug 

columns of a Newipapcr . . . .39 

Newspaper Advertiicmenla not confined to matte ni 

of buaineiB alone 39 

Spccimona of Newspaper Advertitemenia da* 
terving a place in the * Romance of Reftl 

Life ' 39 

Advertiteuicut taken from the cotum'ni of the 

r Chronicle' in lR4:i 41 

Matrimonial Advertisements • . . .41 
School Advertinements . • • • • 43 

Medical Ad vert lac men t> . • . • ■42 
(jeorgc Kubini's Advertisements . . .43 

Progreisive improvement in the art of Advertis- 
ing in Locidun ....•• 43 

Newspaper AdTeriisemeuta in the reign of Queen 
Anne ....... 43 

Advertisemenis in the 'Tatler* • . .43 

The Advertisers of 1711 44 

Advertisement by the Ducheasof Bucldngh^m in 

1734 44 

Adrerliitement by the Eeverend Orator Henler^ 
in 1726 . . .... 44 

Advertisement by Henley In November, 1739 . 44 
Medical QiiackerA- at its height at the beginning 
o( ihi' Eighteenth Century . . . .43 

Ur. Fcchcy's Advertisements . . • .43 
jVnnounccraent by Dr. Herwig . . .43 

Advertisement by J. Muore, in the *Tatier' uf 

AuguBt, 1710 45 

BilUdiHtributors largely employed by Quack 
Practitioners ...... 45 

Mr. Dnker'a Advcrtisementii in the ' Tatler * . 46 
AdT^ulisement in the 'Tatltr' of April, 1710 . 46 
Advertisements of Private Lotteries . • • 46 

Lottertcs. the great school of mulu&l instruction 47 

RuOlea 49 

Little-goea for the sole of Frintaellers' and Picture 
Dealers' unsaleable stock . . . .48 


7. Procession of Placards , 

8. Perambulating Hat 

9. Bill Sticker 





. 33 



ft • 

. 38 
. 48 





Interesting aa«>ciatIons connected with the Eut 
India House ■•■..• 49 

Burke'a ftuniltarity with whatever related to 
India 49 

Historical RecollecUous attached to the Eut 
India Houbo •.•... 30 

Progress of English Dominion in the East ■ M 

Present and former state of Official Servanta in 
India •>.!.•. 

Nabobs .....,, 

Progress of good G oTemment evident in the Ad- 
ministration of India 

Length of the Voyage to tud from India Seventy 
Yean back 






tJoMrUtnly tad Unfrcqucncy of tli« Intereoune 
tMCwc«n Engluiit and India until the middle of 
tbe Eighteenth Century .... 
Tbc ChAnder and Object* of lodian PuUcy «!«• 
v&ted hy th« introduction of Stoaiu Nartgatlon 
Bombay aovt within Fire Weeka' dUUnce of Eng- 

Eapid lacrc&K of I'rirate Intereoune between 

England and India 

Capture of a Portugaese Ship In the reign of 

Queen EUiabetfa 

Charier granted to the Earl of Cumberland in 
1600, for Trading to the East Iiidiet . . 

Little progress made by the English In India dur* 
tng the Serpnteenth Century . . • 

Eaal India Cotnpaoy'i Charter Uenowcd iu 1009 
The * Trades Enercue ' built by the £a«t India 

Company in 1000 

ManagemcDt of thi? busioesa af tlie Eant India 
Company committed iii L612 to a few princi{(&l 
partlea ....... 

The HiRtory of the Eoat India Company, chiefly 
a Narrative of Mercantile transactions during 
the whole of the ScTcnteentli Century . 
The London History of the Ea«t India Company 

during the SevRDtcenlh Centor)* . * 

The *am o(lO,0(Hii. extoried from the Kuat India 

Company by the Duke of Buckingham . 
Licence granted to Captain John Weddcll by 

Charles I. in I63A S3 

Tbe Trade to India thrown open by the Uepub- 

licau Government ..... 53 

Tea Gnt an article of the Kait India Company's 

Tradr in loai-U 63 

Dtraute aa to whether the right uf granting 
Charter* to (he Enal India Company devoUeu 
upon (he Sovereign or the Parliament , , 63 
New Charter granted to the East India Company 

hj the King In 1693 93 

The Old EaRt India Company disvolvcil iu 1698 fi4 

A New Cum'pany, iucorporated by the name of 

the * Eogllih Company,' invested with the prl- 

vilegei of exclusive trade • • . • 

Artpused fn 1702 for uniting the two Compa- 


lapoftaat changes made on the renewal of the 

Charter to the East India Company in 1781 , 

Eatahliihment of the Bounl of Control in llM . 

Infringement made on the Company's Charter in 


Act by which the Company is now governed 

paued in 1S33 

Flrat English Factory In India established at Bu- 
tam In 1602 







Firman obtained by the Engliih from the Oreat 

Mogul aljowtng certain privtleges at Sunt . SS 
Commercial privileges received by the EngUali 

from the Sultan of Acbin . ■ • .65 
Erection of Tort Sl George In 1639 . . fiS 

The privilege of trading custom>frec obtained by 

the Englisli in 1680 &5 

Bombay made over to the East India Company 

by Charles IT. in 1G6S .... 66 

Calcutta founded in 1092 . . • .06 

Bombay made in 1687 the head of all the Ssta- 

bliDhmenls in India . • . . . 6G 
Warren Hnstings made GoTemor General In 1773 &0 
The Home Government of the East India Com- 


The Court of Proprietors, or Guner&l Court . 

The Court of Directors .... 

DiscuMioDS of the Court of Ditectont conducted 
by the same rules u those of the House of 
Commons ....... 

Proceedings of the Court of Proprieton In 1773 

Functions of tbc Court of Directors . . 

The Committee of Secrecy . • • . 

Functions oftho Board of Control . 

Boutiue of bustnesi between the Court of Direc- 
tors and the Board of Control . . . 

Tlie Military department of the East India House 

Various offices of the East India House . . 

Sales of the East India Company 

Facility in compositinn a necessary quallHcstion 
in Public Men in ludla .... 

Testimony to the iudustry and ability of the East 
India Clerks borne by Mr. Cuuning in 1822 . 

The buiioesa of the East India Cumpanvpro* 
habljr transacted fint at the * Nog'a Head 
Inn ..*•..• 

Sii William Craven's House In Lesdenhall Street 
leased to the Enst India Company in 170] • 

Tlie Old Bast India Uouie built in 1720 . 

I^ortico and Pediment of the present Kail India 
House ....... 

Interior of the East India Housu • . . 

The General Cdurt Uoom .... 








Statues in tbe Court Roam .... 

Ttitt Flnanca and Home Committee Room • 

The Library of the East India Houae 

The Mutieum of the East India Honae . 

The Oriental curiosities in the Museum of the 

East liidiii Huuee . . . • • 

Piece of Miifcical Mechanism, once belonging to 

Tippoo SuUan, preserved in the Museum of the 

Eojtt India ilouse ■ • . . • 


10. Eitcrior uf East India House 
IL Eaat India House of 1726 . 
IS. The Musctuu, East India House 




Srars . 








Omlesl crents of which Guildhall was the scene 
in former timet ...... 65 

No place throughout England so favourable b« 

Oundhall for Royal and Folilk-al manoeuvres . 00 
Scene in Guildhall on the 24t]i of June, U83 . 60 

Death of Edward IV 66 

Speech of tbe Duke uf Buckingham at Ouildhall 
aalb«34UiDf June, U83 . . . . Oe 




First etfocts of the Keformation • . . 

Controversies between Henry VIII. and Cathe- 
rine Parr Otf" 

Anne Askew favourably noticed by the Queen 
and the Court 6S 

Arrest uf Anne Aakew • • . . • 68 

Eaaminaliou uf Anuc Aakew . . . . 68 





Diichar^ of Anne Aftk«w .... 08 
Anno A^kcw ftpprchonded tg^in, tni) commiiied 

to Newgftte .68 

Anne Askew coudcrnued lo death for bereij • M 
Torture luid Mtirtyidom uf Aanc Askew • .69 

Sir Thotnaa Wyatfu Iniurrcction , . .70 

The Gunpowder Plot 70 

Sir Nicholu Throckmorton appotated Serrer to 

the King in 1543 70 

Ri«(tor$ir Nicholas Throckmorton in the raroor 

of the Kiu« 70 

Behaviour of Throckmorton at tbe Death of 

Edward VI 70 

Marriage uf Queen Mary and Philip of Spain . 70 
lucident in the churaeler uf Philip of Spain . 70 

Insurrection hemied b; Sir Tbouaa C»rew . 7t 

Tlirockinnrton'a attachuieut to Queen EUtabcth 71 
Trial of Throckmorton . . • . .71 

Judges on the Bench at the Trial of Throck- 
morton • .•■•••?$ 


Charges brought against Throckmorton . . 72 
Throckmorton charijcd with having derited to 

kill the Queen 73 

Deposition of John FttswiUiami at the Trial of 

Tbrackmurton ...... 73 

Throckmorton*! answer to the Charges brought 

againithim ...... 74 

Legid teaming of Throckmorton • • • 76 
DiMhnrge of Throckmorton . . . ■ 77 

EfTertofthe Gunpowder Plot upon the mind of 

King Jauiea 7S 

Proclamation issued fur the apprehension of 

Gerard. Greeowayt and Garnet . > .78 
Hendiip Ilouae used as a plnce of concealment 

bjr Garael , . 78 

Search inotituled at Ueudlip House . .70 

Committal of Garnet to the Towtr . . .70 

Trial of Garnet on the 2tjtb of March, 1606 . 70 

Garnet's Straw . . , . . .70 

Trial of Waller at GuildhaU .... 80 


13. OnildhaU, about 17S0 

M. Martyrdom of Anne Aikew and others 

15. HeodUp Housej 1800 





Ancient Snaon Law • • . . ■ 61 

Trade Guilds 83 

The Municipal Government of England one of the 

great and still exuting Inalitutiuua uf Antit|uity 82 
The exterior of GuildhaU ... . S2 

CouKuencrment ofGuildhall in 1411 . . SI 

Modes adopted for obtaining the rec^ulslte moneys 

for the conslruclioo of Guildhall . , . S2 

The Jmtice Room nfGuildlikll . . .83 

Courts of Queen's B«nch and Common Pleas . S3 
Portraits of the Judge* in the Courts of Queen's 

Bench and Common Pleas . . . .83 

Chipel or College formerly standing on the site 

ofthe Lhw Courts 83 

Interior of Guildhall 84 

Hall of GuildhaU 84 

Crypt below the Hall 84 

Monuiiieuts of great Men in Guildhall . . SS 

Uses to which GuildhaU Is put * . .89 

Corpora.tlon BnnquetH . . . . .83 

Feast at GuildhaU in 18U . . *. , fHi 

Baijquet attended byCharUs I. at GuJldhalliu 164 1 66 
Attempts of Charles I. to soften the harshueasof 

the ('ily politics . . . . . .67 

Annual Feast in Guildhall on Lord Mayor's Day 87 
Election of the Lord Mavnr . . . .87 

The Mayoralty of London mu arduous and re- 

sponsihle position . . . . . .88 

Duties of the Lord Mayor of London . . 86 

OTerwhelming amount of buiineaa transacted by 

the Lord Mayor 80 

History of the Lord Mayors of London four or 

five Centui iea back . . * .89 

Interference of Royalty in theearUer Elections of 

the Lord Mayors . . . . .89 

Chaucer, an Eiile in the cause of Corporate 

Freedom 80 

Tho liberties of the Ctty threatened with utter 

deslructiuu by Richnra IL . . . . ^9 

Open Hostility shown by Richard 11. towards the 

Citiaen tW 

Struggle between Richard II. and the Citixens for 

the right of electing the Mayor . . .90 

Motives that actuated Chaucer to engage In the 

•truggle between Richard II. and the popular 

party in the City . . . ■ .90 

Defeat ofthe Citizctu by Richard II. . • 01 

Proccedjngv against the principal Leaden of the 

defeated Party 91 

FUghl of Chaucer lo Zealand . ... 91 

Chaucer's return to London in 1386 . .91 M 

Cuuimittal of Chaucer to the Tower . .91 H 

Libenuion of Chancer in 13^0 . . . 91 H 

The Court of Aldermen 91 B 

High rank and importance of Aldermen In former H 

times 93 H 

The Wards of London the heritable property of V 

the Aldermen of former times . . .93 

PrMent ronetitution ofthe CorporaUon of London 93 
The CouucU Chamber of Guildhall , , . 93 
Functions of the Common Council . . .93 

The FoUtmote ®^ ^ 

The Livery and Freemen of the City * . 09 h 

Analogy between the National and Civic Farlia- ^ 

ment ....... 93 

WorksofArlia GuUdball . , . , W 

The Old Court of King's Bench . . .94^ 

The Cjurt of HuBliiigs ^ ■ 

The Lord Mayor's Court . . 94 H 

The Sheriff's Court 94 S 

The Chamberlain's Office * ^ fl 

Productions of Mr, Thomas Tomkini In the H 

Chamberlain's OlHce ^''1 

Duties of the Chamberlain . 94 V 

The Waiting or Reading Room • ■ .95 

Household and Expenditure of the Lord Mayor 93 
Erection uf the Maoslou House in 1733 . , 93 

The Jufiice Room at the Mansion Uouie . , 93 

The Egyptian HoU 05 

Must important event of which the Annals of the 

Mansion House can yet buaat • • .86 






16. CouncU Chimber, GuilHIinll 
11. The Cr^pt, Guildhall 

18. iDterior of Guildhall 

19. Th« Muuion Uouie* 1771 


Efif men. 



Tbf Officer of Excise 

The Board ofStampi tnd Tucb . . 

One-haif of the Customi' Duty of the Uniled 
Kingdom cuUrcted in the Fort of Loodoti 

Ksturc >tid Opcrktiuiis vfthe ExcUb . 

HUtory of the Excise Syitcrn . . 

Ettablisbment of Ezriiie Dutlen in England . 

Attempt to introduce EJidse Dntiei In 1626 

Dflermination of the PartiatnenI in 1611 not to 
itTj ExoiM Uutiet ..... 

OrfUDUce luued in \MH for the lerying of Mo- 
iieTt for the Maintenance of the Forces raited 
by Parllanieol .*•••. 

Ectabliahment of the Office of Exciie 

Appointment of the CoinmiMioncn of Excih . 

Biots in London created by the Excise Duly . 

I>cctaration of Parliament made in lfV4B . 

BodcSToar of tbs Royalivta to ihnw that the Kx- 
ciaa wai a Scheme of the Republicani . 

Abolition of Excise on all Article! of Contump- 
tion after the Re»tomlton .... 

The Hereditary and the Temporary Exciie 

Tfae Trmporary Excise f^rantcd for Life to 
Jamet 11. oa hia AccchIoq . . « . 

Only on GIbm and on Malt Brtt impoted In the 
reign of William HI. . . . . 

Lawh for the Protection of the Excise 

Sir Robert Walpole'a Srlieme for extending tlie 
Exetse ....... 

Coniinittee of the Houae of Cammonn appointed 
in 1732 for inquiring into the Fraudi uid 
Abu«e« commillrd in the Customs . • 

iBlToductlnn in 1793 of Walpole's plnn for the 
Correction of the Ahu«e« of the Cunlomi 

Tnuda conmitTed in the Tohao^ro Tr«de 

DiacoTery of the illegal practices of the Custom- 
Houae Officers in 1728 .... 

Tbc Lawi of the Cuitoma thought inaufflcient 
to prevent fraud ..... 

PropoMl of Sir R. Walpole to bsTo Tobacco 
•objected to the Lawi of the Exctie aa ireU ai 
to thove of the Customs .... 

Oppo«itiaa to Sir R. WKlpole's acheme for ex- 
tending the Excite ...... 

Deputies from the Prorincial Towni Rent to Lon- 
don to oppoM Sir R. Walpole's Meainre . 

Debate on Sir R. Walpole^ IVill 

Meeting of the principal Supporters of Sir R. 
Walpole's Bill 

AbendoBmeat of hli Scheme by Six B. Walpole 


















^^^^». EtcUe Oflife. Broad Street SMEniiiiD 

31. Hall nf Exciae Office „ 

12. Ecciac Office Exchange , . „ 


Public dcmonstratiAnn of Joy at the Defieat of 
Sir R, Walpole's Project .... 
Rejoictnpn throughout England on the Receipt 
of the Inielligcnce of the Rejection of Wal- 
pole's Bill ,104 

Rejoicinji;a nt Oxford and Cambridge on the De- 
feat of Sir R. Walpole . . . .104 
Elxiravaganl ideas of Liberty entprtainpd by the 
Englifth talirited by Goldsmitli's * Chmcs* 

Philotopher" iOfl 

Andrew MArrell, DlarkaioDet end Johnson great 

TiliSen of the Excise .... lOA 

Commiuionen of Excise Inquiry . • . 1^5 

The Gin Act of 1736 lUfl 

Fears entertained of an Insurrection of the Po- 
pulace in London after the passing of the Gin 

Act \m 

Struggle against the Operntions of the Gin Act 106 
Exteniiive Evasions of the Lsw after the passing 

of the Gin Act 107 

The Gin Act mfMUfled in 1742 . . .107 

Excise Duty on Bricks Imposed by Pitt in nS4 107 
Pitt's Plan for trannferring the greater part of 
the Duty on Foreign Wine from the Cuitoiui 

to the Excise jO? 

Transfer of the greater part of the Duty on To- 

baccti from tbu Customi< to the Excise . . J08 

Number of ExriKe Officers employed in England 

in ntt7 108 

Gross Excise Revenne for the United Kingdom 

in Ifi41 08 

Number of Traders surveyed periodically by 

Excise Officers in 1N35 . . . .108 

Duty on Spiritn in the London Collection . 108 

AdmlnistratWe JmproTemcnts in thr Excise . 100 
Officers employed in the Collection and 3ianage< 

ment of the Excise Revenue . . . 109 

Considerable reductiuus made in the Excise 

Office iu the first twenty years after the Pesco 110 
T%c oot-door buuneis of the Excise Office in 

London conducted by twelrc general sunreyors 110 

The Collector HO 

The Supervisor 110 

The Sorveying- General Examiner , . . Ill 
The Excise Office prerious to 1769, formerly the 

Mansion of Sir J. Frederick . . .Ill 

Greshsm College puUrd down in 1768 . . Ill 

Erection of the preteni Excise Office on the site 

of Oresham College Ill 

Arrangements of the interior of the Excise Office 1 H 



. 97 

Nl'sbxt . 

. 109 

Wkago . 

. 112 


The onoe mightjr Fellowihipi of London . 113 

, Compwuea of London now in their Decline • 114 

The Muakioua 114 

The MasoM lU 

Thcriii-Maken lU 

The Festival of Corpui ChriiU . . . lU 

The Skinners 114 

Banquft in the Hall of tbe Skinners* CoQipaujr 

on the day of Cor|iii8 Chriiti * • » lid 

Election of the Editor and Wardeni of the 

Skinnon' Company . . . . .115 

Mature of the buslncu tmnsactcd b; the Muter 

and Wanlena 110 

Fre%-entiug or arnuipiiig Disputci among the 
Members an important branch of the Outici 
of the Officpm of the London Companlci . 1 HJ 
Apprenticeii dirt'ctly under the Sitperriiilon and 

Control of the Alaiiter and Waideu* • * 1 17 

Interference of the Companiea in the maUer of 

the DrcH of the Apprvuticn . . .117 
Anxiety of Qu^en ElisaWth to restrain the lore 
of Splrndour amongst her Subjects . . 117 

The Trade Searchca 1 11 

Petition presented to the Court of Atdcrmen by 
the Wax Chandlers' Company in tbe reign of 

Edward HI 116 

Chief placea where the Trade Searches bad gc- 

nenilly to be pursued . . . .118 

I'Ocalities of tlie dtflcrent London Tnidet . 116 

Juritdiction of tbe Mayor and Aldermen over 

tlie Companies 118 

Duties arising from the Connexion between Iha 

Companies and lh« Cine Corporation > 1 19 

Monopoly enjoyed by the Companies > . 1 19 

Richard Whittin^on 119 

Sntem of making presents to the Mayor • 120 

Host importiuit labours undertaken by the 

Companies and the City ■ . . ■ 120 
Supply of Com and Coal in times of scarcity to 
the poorer Citisens by tbe London Compa- 
nies 120 

Arrangement respecting Com concluded be- 

tivecn the City and tlic Companies in 137S . 121 
letter from the Duke of Lennox in IG22 to tbe 
Master and Wardens of the ComiNuiT of Gro- 
cers 121 

Connexion of Che Compuiics with the Oorenu 
ment 131 

Application fur Honey from Queen Eliiabetli to 

the Ironmongen . . . . • 123 

Establishment of the Pmt Lottery in 1567 . IL'2 

Lottery for Armour established in 10SS . . 123 

Fatenla, s ■v'stcm of direct infringement upon 

the chief Powers and Rights of the Companies 133 
Ftitcnt obtained hy Rdivard Darcy to search and 

sen] all the Leather through England . ■ 123 
System of Patents at its highest point in the 
reign of James I. ..... 133 

Liberality shown by the London Compuuci on 

any great public oecanion . , . ' • 133 

'Hie Army of the London Companies reviewed 

by Queen Rliiabeth in 1972 ... 124 

Origin and Rise of the London Companies . 134 
Charter received by the Weavers of London in 

the reign of lienry II 134 

Origin of the Knightcn Guild . . . 124 
Semi- religious Character of the London Com- 
panies 123 

Incorporation of the Guilds in tbe reign of Ed- 

irard 111 12) 

Edward III. enrolled a Member of the Mer- 
chant Tailors' Company .... 1S5 
Straggles for Precedence between the London 

Companies ■•..., ISA 
EndeaTour of Charles 11. to destroy tbe Inde- 
pendence of the Loudon Companies . . 129 
The Conipauies of London divided into three 

ctoMcs 126 

The GoTcmmcnt of the Companies intrusted to 

CouTtA of Afsintants 126 

Charities of the London Companies . . 127 

Annual Payments of the Goldsmiths* Company 

to tlicLr Poor 127 

The cliortered Festirala of tbe London Com- 

pnnie 137 

HsUs of the London Compaitles . . . 137 
Tbe Fishmongers' Hall . . .128 

Merchant Tailors' HaU . . . . I2« 

Drapers' Hall 128 

Mercers' Hall 128 

Clockmakers' HaU 128 

The Pointer Slaiuen* HaU . . . .128 





23. Interior of Merchant Tailors* Kail, Throddneedle Street 

34. Front of Mercers' Hal], Cbcapside 

25. Leather-sellers' lUll. Bishopsgatc Street . . * • 

29. Arms of the Weavers' Company . . . . . 

27. FiBbmoDgers* Hall, London Bridge 















Ska OS 



Origin nf Covent Gordon . . * . 

Covent Gnrdon in ISB") .... 

Changes in the Metrupolis caused by the Disso- 
lution of the MonaKlericn .... 

Long Acre granted by Edward VI. to the Earl 
of Bedford in 1503 

Soutbamplon House built by tbe Karl of Bed- 
ford in 1553 

Magnificent Improvements commenced by the 
Karl of Bedford in the early part of the reign 
of Cbarle* !..,•••« 






Proclamation issued by Queen Eliiabelli in 1580 

respecting the Erection of Houses In London 131 
Buildings commenced by luigo Jonos at Ou- 

coln's Inn Fields I3t 

Inigo Jones, the true Founder of Iho modern 

domestic Architecture of the Metropolis . 131 
Squares and Jitrcets erected in London in the 

reigns of William and Anne . . . 133 
Erection of the Chapel of St. Martin's . .132 
Coveut Garden formed into a Parish in 1615 . 132 
AltemtioasandHepaLtsofCoveul Garden Church 1A3 



TuDA^ done to Corent Ounlen Chttrcli bvFlr* 

io 1795 133 

Kminent &f«n buried within the Willi or in the 

Cbardt7«rd of St. Paul'f, Coreut Garden . 133 
loteiTflttng Auocittioua of Covcnt GaidcQ not 
confined to the Church .... 183 

Dfyden wiylfcid Kud beiten f& Bom Alle}-* Co- 
vent Gaxdcn ...... 131 

Dad between Sir H. BellMwes ami Tom Por- 
ter 134 

DuLhofBolljiMe* 1:14 

PoweUt Thefttre, Covent Gmrdcii . . ,13* 

The Beefrteak Club 13S 

Lord Peterborough and Rich . . 135 

Dtftinguiibed Penoiu ivho hkre been Memben 

of the Beefiteak Club . . ■ .135 

Mifntioiii of the fiee&tcik Club . . .136 
Aspect of Covent Garden in the beginning of 

the tut rcniury . . . ■ ■ 13(1 

Pra|K>«b made in 1651 for cstablishtnga Herb- 

Burkct in Clement'i Inn Fieldi . . .136 
Origin of Corent Garden Market . . . I've 
The Hoae7 Lane Market . . . .137 
Act puMd in 1834 for the establishment of Far- 

riagdott Market 137 

Gonpuiy incorporated in 1830 for re-establiih- 
ing HuDgerford Market .... 137 

Act pnned for the ettabUsbmcDt of Portman 

Market 13T 

Covent Oardea Market serventy Tiara 14^ . 137 
Act obtained bjr the Duke of Bedford in 1837 

fur rebuilding Covtnt Garden Market . . 137 

Present Arrangemonts of Covent Garden Market 13a 

Farringdou Market 138 

Frnrincial Mnrkcu • . • . ■ 130 
Exteniire System of Co^opemtlou involved in 
the Sapply of Fruit and Vegotablot to the Fo- 

pulatiou of London . . . • . 139 
Market-days at Coreut Garden . • .HO 

Houaoa of Refresliment arouud Corent Garden HO 
The Yegetable and Fruit Market at Covent 

Garden HI 

The BuuncH of the Flower Market at Corent 

Garden Ht 

Covent Garden tbo Loudonent' Flower-garden . 143 

Tlie Costermon^ra ..... 142 

The Rorou^h Market U3 

S|iitalflcldii the iar^cat Potato Market in the Me- 
tropolis ...,,.. 143 
Potato -salesmen in London . « • . 143 
Consumption of Potatoes in the Metropolis . 144 
London ohictly supplied wilb Potatoes from 

Rssex and Kent 144 

Supply of Potatoes to London by Water . .144 


S8. Corent Garden Market 

29. House built by Inif>o Jones, in Great Queen Street 

30. Group of Market People • ■ . • • 

Dwlg n eri. 







Architecture of the Admiralty . . . 115 

THe Commissioners of the Aduiiratly . .145 
Tb« Admiralty Telegraph . . . .146 
Jni^rior of the Admiralty • ■ . . 146 
Aa*odations connected with the Admirully . 147 
The Admiralty one of the moit Inlcrestittjf Ixt- 

cftlities in London . ■ • . . 

X>utiea of the ' Amiral de U Mer du Rold'Angle- 

terre'in 1297 

Attcniion paid to Naval Affairs by Henry TIT. 
The Admiralty and the Nsvy Office instituted 

by Henry Vni US 

£«tAbli«hment of the Trinity Home and the 

Dock-yards in the Reign of Henry VIII. 
Ship* of the Time of Henry VIIL . 
Navy of the Time of Queen EUtabeth 
Profrecs of Naval Aichitccturc in the Reign of 


Phinrta Fett the first ecientific Sbip-buUder . 
Advance in Naval MaUeri during the Reign of 

James I. > . . . . • 

CoDsequrnces of the Growth of ihg Spirit of 

Maritime Enterprise in England in the Time 

of Elisabeth 

VoragM of Dlacoiery fitted out in the Reign of 


Burst of Nadonal Energy In the Reign of EU- 


Michael Lok 

Frohisher's Voyage « • • . . 
£i^is)uncn a Nation of Bfarincra in the Age 


Oo p t ro re n y between Charlea I. and Jolin 

Buopqen »•.■•• 











The Navy under Charles I. . . . ,150 

The Navigation Laws originated by Cromwell . 150 
The Navy after the Restoration . . . 150 
ImprDveraenu in the Navy in the Rclgn of 
James 11. ...... 131 

The sailing and fighting Men of the Navy not 

one Class under the Restoration . . . ]G1 

Tlie Seamen of the Time of the Common wealth 

and thrt R4>Bttirttion ..... 151 

The ?tfanagempnl of the Navy pcnoauontly put 
into Commission in IRSfl .... 161 

The Afiairs of the Navy managed by a Com- 
mittee of Parliament during the Common- 
wealth 101 

The Duke of York Lord High Admiral during 

the greater Part of the Reign of Charles 11. . 153 
The House of Judge Jefferics converted to the 

Use of the Commissioners of the Admiralty . IS3 
Removal of the Admiralty to Walllngford House ISS 
Tilt! present .Admiralty erected, on the Site of 

Wallingford House in the lleign of George II. 153 
Screen erected by Adam before the Admiralty in 

the Reign of George III IS3 

Improvements m&dc in the Navy since the Revo- 
lution 153 

An Hydrographer permancnliy anneied to ibe 

Admiralty Board in 1795 . . . . Ift3 

Important ImproTements made of late Tears in 

the Nary « 153 

Vessels composing the British Navy at present • 153 
The Peacc-cstablishmcnt of the Mavy . .163 
Peculiar Character attributed to the British Tar 153 
Lord Anson . . ■ • . •104 
The Naval College ?89 





The Lower School it Grwnwich . . • 
The Uydroprtpber's Offlct .... 
DiffercDce betivcen the Siilon of Marrjnkt fttid 

those of SmollcU «nd hi> Coiilcmpor»rie« 
Bninchei of the Niv; Office at Som^rMt House 
Vsrious Bnmches of the Manaffementof the Kav^' 155 
Hie Char»ct«riaticii uf BrlUih GoTerament . 150 

The Trinity Hoane 156 

Record! of the Trinity Houk deiirojed by Fire 

early in the eighteenth Century . . . 

The Holy Trinity of Deptford Strand 
JurifldtcUon of the Trinity Houae . . » 
Charter granted to the Trinity Houm by James II. 
Corporation of the Trinity House . 
The Board of the Trinity House 
The Committee of Wardens .... 
X^gfatiaif, Beaeouing, and Buoying of the Coasts, 

Branchea of Maritime Police 




The Merchant Serrice 15t» 

A raluabtc Biauch of the Merchant Service 

formed by the East India Trade . . ■ IStt 
High Character attained by the Meroamile Ma- 
rine (rf England . . ■ . ■ 158 
Effirieocy of the English Marine . • • 158 
The Hydrographer's Office a connecting Link 
between the Admiralty Board aud the Trinity 

Board 108 

Habitations of the Naval Ralers of En^fUnd in 

ancient Days 159 

The Navy Office in Crniched Friars . . 159 
Punult of Mr. Pepys by n Bum-Bailiff . .159 

The Old Trinity Uoase, In Water Lane . . 159 

Mr. Pepyt of real Service to tlie Navy . . 159 
The Edifices of London, with few ExcepUons, 

eaaentially modem . • • ■ . 160 


Oealcners. KnffTaren. 

31. Tlie Admiralty • - Shephbrd Sum 

32. The Admiralty ai it appeared, before Adam's Screen was 

built B. Slt Hollowat 

33. Old Trinity House, from an Anonymous Print in the Pen- 

nant CollecUon Nuoaarr 



No. I. — BspoRK THE Fire. 

Tablet In the Chnrcb of SL Peter, Comhill 
The Church of St. Feler supposed to have heon 

founded by Lucius, the first Christian King of 


Information given by Slow regarding St. Peter's 


Churches in London In the twelfth Ccntnry 

enumerated by Fiis-Stephcn . 
Churches tn and about London In the Time of 


Btghty-nlne of the Metropolitan Churches de 

Btroyed by the Great Fire . 
Buildings referred to by Stow almost identiml 

with the Buildings mentioned by Fit2-Stc 


Conventual Buildings mentioned by Fitx-Ste 

phen ...... 

St. Mariio's-le-Grand, founded in 700 ■ 
61. Martin's the Alaatia of early Days . 
Churches of Ix>ndon and the Suburbs before the 

Fire ...... 

Origin of the Namea of some of the Metropoli 

tan Churches ..... 
M any of the Churches of London rich in Memo 

rials of the Dead .... 
Inscription on a Tomb in St- Leonard's, Foster 

Lana ...... 

Exieiing Churches in London spared by the Firo 

The Dutch Church, Austin Friars . 

Fereoni boned in the Dutch Church, Austin 


Tbe Church uf AUhaltowi. Barkinit 

Image to the Virgin erected by Edmrd I. in 

Allhnllows, Barking .... 
Inacri|iti[>iin iind Monuments in AUhnllows 
The Ku) uf Surrey and the Bishops Fisher and 

L«(id interred In Allhallows 
Allhallows injcred tiy an Eiploaion of Gunpow 

dcr in 1619 


















The Minority of the earliest Churehea la Lon- 
don probably built of Wotxl 

Tower of Allhallowi Staining . • 

Viait of Queen Elizabeth to the Church of All- 
hallows Stainine ..... 

Entries in the Parish Books of Allhallowa 
Staining ....... 

Festivals at Allhallows Staining 

Noticeable Signatures in the Parish Books of 
Allhallows Staining ..... 

St. Olnvc's, Hart Street .... 

Interior of St. Andrew Undenhaft 

SIow'b MoDumeut in St. Andrew Undcrshaft . 

Tbe uriginal Edifice of St. Catherine Cree, 
puUed diMvu about 1107 .... 

Ths Church uf St. Kaihenne Cree rebuilt by 
Inigo Jones in 1628 

Dintinguinhed Persons buried in tbe Church of 
Sl Kalherine Cree ..... 

Consecration of St. Kalherine Cree by Lnud in 

Description given by Prynne of the Ceremony 
of the CoDsecratlon ..... 

The Churchyard of St. Katherlne Cree a popu- 
lar Place fnr the Exhibition of Dramatic In- 

Remnant of St. Michael'tt Church existing be- 
neath a Houti.* in Aldgatc .... 

Remarkable Aspect of the Exterior of St. He- 
len's, BishiipRgate . . • « , 

Interior of St. Helen's ..... 

CaDanixation of lleleuA, the Mother of Con- 
stantine the Great ..... 

Priory of Benedictine Nunfi, founded in 1313 
near St. Helen's, Uiihopftgale 

Monument of Sir John Crosby and his Lady in 
St. Helen's Chnrch 

Tomb of Sir W. Pickering in St Helen's 

Tomb of Sir TbomM Omham lit St. Helea'i . 






















Tablet to Sir Willitm Bond and his Son . , 173 
Compl4ifit> made afnunMitheNuD^ of St. Helen*! 

by the Dtaii nl'St. Paul's in 1439 . . 173 

Mrraament to Richard Bancroft in 8L Helen*! 

Church ....... 174 

Mutiuinent to Sir JaliuiCvmr in thi; Qiaiioel of 

SuHel«n"» 174 

8t. Gilea'i Cripplegate partially burnt in the 

SUteenth Crntnrjr 174 

Eminent Pertons buried in the Church of St. 

OUm'* Cripplcgate 174 

Intere«tln^ Recollectionji of St. Gilei'a 

Marriage of OUvvr Cromwell and Eliiabeth 
Boucbier in St. Gilea'a Crlppleirate , , 

Arcbbiihops inteircd in Lanib«th Cborcli 

MoDumeiit to the Tr«descani« in the Church- 
yard of Lanibetb Church ■ ■ ■ * 

St. Maryarct'g, WeBtniinster , , , . 

Remarkable Peraani buried in St. Margarel'v. 
Westtninairr ...... 

The painted eaatem Window of St. Marg«ni'i . 


U. Exterior of the Dutch Church, Au!iln Friore . . 
35. Procf^uioD of the Wooden Aia on Palm Sunday . 

Srt. Interior of St. Helen's 

S7. East Windoiy of Sl Marg&ret'i Church, WeitnilnKer 









Pax I 






No. It. — Wren's Churcbes. 

Wtiou of the Ciiiieni of London tf^er the 
Great Fire ...... 

Erection of Places of Worship after the Fire . 

Earlieflt MoTcment towards the rebuilding of 
AlUwIlowa, Lombard Street 

Tkrioui Meant of raising the Funds for rebuild- 
ing of Allhallows 170 

Pecuniarj- Difflcullies experienced by Wren 
duriuft the Pro^cts of the rebuilding of the 
Cburehea of London aAcr the Fire 

The Daign of Ibe London Cburclie? materially 
Reeled by the pecuniary Difficultiva encoun- 
tered by Wren ...... 

Fnnds for rebuilding St. Uary Aldermarj- be- 
queathed by Mr. Rogera .... 

Preventa given to Wren by the Churchwardens 
«f SL Clement's East Cheap and St. Mary Al- 
dermanbury ...... 

Wren the Inventor of » Style of Ecclesiastical 
Architecture adapted to the Wants of a Pro- 
intantCommuniiy ..... 180 






Estcrion of Wren's Churches 

CbvmcterUtics of the Interlon of Wren's 

Churche* ...... 

Donation to the Old Church of Mary Alder- 

marr by the Father of Chaucer . 
Cbnrcbe* bulunfting lo the Miscellaneous Claaa 

of Wren's Buildings .... 

The Church of St. Lawrence, Jewry . 

B««tdeDce of the Jews in the Old Jewry . . 

The Jews espelled from England by f>Hward I. 
Stained Olass in the Chnrrh of St. Edward the 


Moninnent of Anthony .Monday in the Church 

of St Stephen. Cnl^man Street . . . 

Inscription i>n the Monument lo Thomaa Tusser 

in SU Mildred's, Poultry .... 
Dewh of Inigi> Jones in IBS! 
Arehilectore of the Church of AUhallows the 


The Name of Whittington Inseparably aaaoci- 

ated with the Church of SL Michael'i, Pater- 

Bovter Row ...... 

Historj nf WhHiinifton's Monument . . 
lltlt<'u'* Pif-ture of Mnry Maifdalcno in tlie mo> 

drm Oturr-h uf Sl Michuel's , 
Th« H**A of James IV. of Scotland buried in 

Sl Michaers, Wnud Street .... 
^httwl>*a in l^udou of the Rasitical Class 










Miles Coverdole Rector of St. Itfagnua til! 1S6A 

The Church of Su Bsrlholomew 

Kminent ilfen interred in Bride Church . 

Monument to Hiflliop Newton In Bow Church . 

AHwiKtions connected with Bow Church . 

Accident to Queen Philippa at Bow Church 

Murder of Lnwrence Ducket in the Tower of 
Bow Church 

Taillage Icried upon the City of London during 
the Absence of Richard I. in the Holy Laud . 

The corrupt Practices of the Managers of the 
Tax denounced by William Fitz-Osber^ 

Conspiracy iu thi> Reign uf Richard T., beaded 
by William Fita-Osbert .... 

The Tower of Bow Church barricaded and 
mainlaincd for three days by William Fitj. 

Fita-Osbert and his Followers hung at Smith' 

Pilgrimagea performed to the Place of Fitx>Os- 
bert's Drntl) ...... 

Interior of St- Andrew's, Holborn . . . 

Record of the Baptism of the Poet Savage in the 
Parish Register of St. Andrew's ■ . . 

Few lilcnu-} Li^es more truly melancholy than 
that uf Savage ...... 

Friendship of Jnhniiun and Savage . . . 

Death of Ssthkc in 1743 . . . . 

Miseries and Death of Chatterton . 

Entry of the Burial of Chatterton in the Pariah 
Reglttor of Sl. Andrew's .... 

Combination of the Italian and Gothic Styles 
in the Church ot .Sl Michael's, Corohtll 

Doubts of Wren as tn the Slubilily of the Tower 
of St. Dimstan's in the Fjut 

Quarrel in St. Dunstan's Church between the 
Ladies of Lord Strange and Sir John Truseel 
in the Year UI7 

Penance inflicted upon Lord and Lady Strange 

Features of the Interior of St. James's. West- 
minster ....... 

The Domed Claai of Wren's Churches . 

CharncteriKtics of the Architecture of SL Sl«- 
phen'i, Walbrook . . . • . 

Tho Chnrch of St. Benet Fink 

Flocking of the Cititens of London lo 8l An- 
thony's tn hear tlie Sermons of Alexander 
Henderson just before tho Outbreak of the 
Civil War 


















Memorial to Sir T. Crisp in the Church of Su 
Mildred, Bread Street . . . .190 

Exertioiif of Sir Nicholu CHip In the Ciiue of 
Charlet II 190 

Corinthian Altar Fieca in the Churdi of St. 
Mujr Abchurch 191 

Mafnificence of the fiirmer Cbareh of St. Marr- 


Costs of the £rccllon of Wrcn*« Churches • 

Coit of the Breotion of St. Stephou'i, Wai- 

brook •••>••• 


B. Interior of Sl James's, Westminitcr 
3l9. Bow Church, Cheapside, 17J>0 
10. ]nt«rior of St. Stephen*!. Walbrook 

Blown Jacksom 

Fairuolt Sly 
W. B.CLAiKfi Jacksom 

No, III. — Modern Chcrcbbs. 

imd Hnwkflmour, the most eminent Suc- 

1 of Wren 193 

dreat Reputation of F&lladio in Itnlj . . 194 
Introductiou of the ItaUan-Roman Style of Ar- 
chitecture into Eu^lind by Inii^ Jont^s * 191 
Act pa«»ed in ihe IDlh Year of the Keign of 
Queen Anne for building tidy Churches in 
London .■•.... 19-4 



Birth and Education of James Gibhii 
Kmnloyraent obtnined by Gibbs from 

Church CommiMioncra .... 
Sl MaryVin-the-Strand the flrst of Gibbs's Ec- 
clesiastical Structures ■ . • . 
Bt. MartinVin-the-Ficldsthe Butliling on which 

Oibbs'i Famo chiefly rests . * . 

Interior of St. Martin's ..... 
Notorious Persons buried in the Precincts of SU 

Mnrtin's 106 

Sl. Mary Woolnoth, the flrst Church buUt by 

Ilawksmoor •.•••• 
The Church of St. Anne, Limchousc • * 
St. George's Church, Ihu Product of the united 

Genius of Gibbs nn>l UawkstDoor > . 
St. George's, Bloonisbury Square * . • 
St. Gcorga's, Hunovrr Square, completed iu 


St. Luke's, Old Street, erected by James In 1732 
St. John's Church> AVestrainster, erected by 

Archer in 1728 

St. Giles's-in-the-Flelds attributed to Uanka- 









St. Giles's ascribed by Wslpolc to FUtcroft 
The Resurrection Gate at the Entrnnce of the 

Churchynrd ofSt. Giles . . . . 

Monument in Sir Roger L'Estntngo in the Old 

Church of Sl Giles . . . , . 

The Remains of Andrew Marvetl interred in Bt. 


Chapman the Poet buried iu St. Giles's . . 

Comparison between Cowper's and Chapman's 

Translation of Homer . . . . 

Burial of Fliuman in SU Giles's in 1B26 . 
Intereitlnu; circumstance connected with the 

Death of Flaxman > • . . . 
The ground on which St. Giles's stands formerly 

occupied by a Hospital • . • . 








Sir Peter Paul Pindnr buried in the Choreh of 
St. Botolph, Biohopsgatc Street . . . 

Munificence of Sir Peter Paul Pindar 

Inscription on the Tomb of a Persian Merchant 
in the Ctiurchyard of St. Botolph . . 

Bishop Bonner interred in the Churchyard of St. 
George in the Bi>rou^h . . • ■ 

Anecdote of Bonuer on his Committal to Prison 

The Porch of St. Alphage .... 

Record in thi* Parish Register of Sl. Atphsge of 
the persons touched by Charlei II. for the 

Canterbury Defended by Klphcge, Archbishop 
of Canterbury in 1011 .... 

Murder of Elphege by the Danes, tu 1012 

The Churcli of SL Alphage Erected to the Me- 
mory uf Elphcge, on the plnco of his Death . 

Pause in the Erection of Churches in London 
during the reign of George III. . . 

The Church of St. Pancras, New Road, an 
arowed Imitation of the Temple of Erech- 
theion, at Athens ..... 

Porches of St. Pancras imitated from the Pan- 
drosiuin attached to the Erechtheion * 

The Steeple of St. Pancras imitated from the 
Temple of the Winds, at Athens . . . 

Interior of St. Fancnu ..... 

Chapel of St. Mark, North Audley Street 

Trinity Chapel, Poplar ..... 

New Churcti at Stepney, erected by Mr. Walters 
about 1H23 

St. Luke's, Chelsea • • • • . 

All Souls, Longham Place .... 

SL Kadwrina's, Regeut's Park 

Benebctressea to the CouTont of .SL Kalherine* 

Distingiiinhed Persons buried in the Old Church 
of Sl Knthcrine's . . . , , 

Disgraceful circumstance con&ecied with the 
pulling down of the Old Church of SL Ka- 
therine ....... 

Clock of Sl Dunstan's In the West ■ 

Bookscllera* Shops in llic Churchyard of St. 
Dunstaa's ■ 

Sl DuDstan's rebuilt by Mr. Bhaw about 

Christ Church. Westminster ■ ■ • • 












41. St. Msry*s, SooUiwark .... 

49l S. Martin's Church 

43. Interior of SL Mary Woolnoth, Lombsrd Street 

44. Female Caryatid Figure in the British M uscum 

45. Trinity Chapel. Poplar .... 

46. St, Peter's Church, Bankside . . 
*T. Christ Church, Wpitmiostcr 

B. Sly 




Wau:n , 

•f • 


Wraoo . 






The Horse GatinU, bollt &boDt the inic);Jle of 

the EighLcenth Century .... 209 
Kent, the Architect of Ihc Uoree Guards • 309 

Tht Archiiectaral I'reteiuioiu of tlie Uom 

Giunli 209 

Ceremon; of Changtog Guard at the Uono 

GuanU 310 

Moremeati of the Queen's Guard of the Houae- 

hold Bri^de of Cavalrj, rPf^Uted nominally 

by the Gold Stick In M'nillng . . .310 

Bamcki in London where the Foot GuanU an 

MaUoned . 3t0 

TbeGuanU 311 

The Bluet 31 1 

A Soldier*! not an Idle Life . . . .311 

Resourera of an Officer in London . . • 311 

The Guarda* Club 213 

The Onarda' Dlnnera at St Jamcs't . . 313 

The Tower or Port Major .... 313 

The Bank Pirjuet 213 

The Bank Dinuera 313 

The Duke of York't Dinners at the Hone 

Guarda ....... 313 

Character of the Duke of York . . .313 

Debt of gratitude owing by England to the Onke 

of York 3M 

The Briti«h Soldier of the preieot day . . 214 
The Non-commiuloned Officer . . . 314 
Qualitlea required to enable a man to fill a Sub- 

ordinste Situation with perfect elHciency . 2li 
High .Spirit and Honourable Ambition of the 

BrilUh Serjeant illostrated by Steele in the 

■Taller' Hi 

Thm Onaidi at Waterloo . • .310 

Want of Centralised Authority in the manage- 

Bdeut of the Army . . . ■ • 21S 

TheGuardiof Charlea II. and James IL . 213 

The Army of modern growth when compared 

with the NaTj- 216 

T^ Army of Kngtand made after foreign models 216 
The Army of England equal, if not superior, to 

any in Europe > . . • • •216 

The Commnndei^in-Chlef . . . .216 

The Master-General of the Orcnance . . 216 

Drpwtments of Goremment connected with the 

AdministTation of Military Affairs . .216 

All power and control oter the Army Tested In 

Ibe Crown 317 

Functions of the Secretary of Slate ■ 

The Sccretarj- of State for the War Department 
and Coloniea •.,,.. 

Financial Atrangemenls of the Army entnuted 
to the Secretary at War .... 

Duties of the Sccrciar)- at War ■ . • 

The Commwidcr-ln-Chief • ■ ■ . 

Duties of the Adjulant-Gcucral . . , 

Principal Duties of the Quaner-4faater-Qe- 

Board of Topography attached to the Office of 
Quarter-Maaler-Gpncpal . . , , 

The Ordnance Office 

Duties of the MBster-Gcueral of the Ordnance . 

The Deputj-Adjutant-Gcncral of Artillery 

The Koyal Artillery Corps « . ■ . 

Tlie Worshipful Artillery Company of the City 
of London ...... 

Corpi subject to the Ordnance . • 

Origin of the present Organisation of the Boyal 
Engineers .,..,, 

The Ariillery Regiment * ■ . . 

The proceedings of the Board of Ordnance snb- 
ject to the control of (be Master- General . 

Duties of the Board OIBcers of the Ordnance « 

Busiucsn of the Board of Ordnance . • , 

The Comrninsnriat Kstahlishment . . 

The Commissariat a peculiar and important 
service ••*•... 

Part of the duties of the Commlssamt department 
thrown upon the Ordnance . . 

Abolition of the Comptrollers of Army Accounts 

The Commissariat and Audit Board botli 
branches of the Treasury . . • 

Proceedings of the Commissioners of Chelsea 
Hospital ....... 

The Secretary at War and the Commander-in- 
Chief the heart of the Military Organisation of 
Great Britain 

Answers of Sir A ugustut Fraser to the questions 
of the CommissioQcrs on the Civil Administra- 
tion of the Army in 1833 .... 

The Horse Guards the centre of vitality of an 
Army *•••••. 

Military discipline • ■ . * , 

Superiority of an organised Army oter (he F-n- 
uiuslasm of Individuals or Naliona . . 




















48. Principal front of the Horw Guards 
Park iront of the Horse Guards 





The Sale of Books probably not a regular Trade 

till alter the luvenliun of Printing . . 

Biblf-a and nth«-r Bnokn iM>1d nt. Faira in many of 

the principal Cities of the Continent . . 

The Religions Treatises of Wycliffc the first 

Books sold to any ritent In London . 
Ko Book Shops in London till after the Kour- 

teenth Century 

rrloting PreMsetup by William Caxton in H74 
Scatioaers* Company Incorporated In 1357 • 
lodueacc of the Bookseller on Literature • 





Bookselling in London till the middle of the 
Sercutevuth Ci'ntury . ■ . . • 

Patcmr>sti-r Row bffore the Fire of London • 

Bnokscllrrs' Shops principally in St. Paul's 
Churchyard before and at the time of the Great 
Fire ...•••■ 

Fepys's Visits to the Booksellers' Shops in St. 
Paul's Churchyard . . * , . 

Destruction of UooWs by the Great Fire • 

Rise In the Price of Books after the Firo . 

Booksellers' Shops near Wcstnlnster Hall 





Ptpj^'s incffcctunl enil»rotira to oompnhend 

the wit of Uudibra* 228 

Eetum of the BookipUer» to St. PMil'i Church- 
yard on the re-buil(liDg of the City mfter the 

Fire WO 

Bcoit the Bnt London Bookietler in the time of 

Fep7i 229 

SeoTt nid (o have bern, in hii timet the greitett 

Llbruiui in Europe . . . . , 329 

Little Britun ooil Duck Lane mainly inhabited 
by Booksellers in the enJ of the Seventeenth 
and bediming of the Ei^hieenth Century . 21)0 
FaternoBler Rtiir iH'gvii to be occupied by Book- 
Kellern about the middle of the Eightecntli 

Century 2A0 

Benjamin Franklin and James Ralph in Little 

Britain 2^ 

• Life and Errora' of John Dunton . . . 231 

Birth and Edueation of John Dunton . . 231 
A Booksellcr'a Shop established bv Dunton in 

16»5 . . . . *. ,231 

Picture gireo by Dunton of Literature and ite 

foltowet* in London ..... 231 
Sermons aud other Rcligiooft disquiattioria tlie 
mott saleable of all Publicaliuos in the time 

of Duntou 232 

UarrioKe of Dunton irvith Elisabeth Annealey . 232 
Duntoii'i Joumry to Nuw Eug-land . . 232 
I>unton'a nunblliig prapeniiliea . . . 232 
Death of Dunton-a Wife in 1687 ... 233 
Marriage of Dunton with Sarah Nicholaa . 233 
Dunton's latter years passed in quiet and ob- 
scurity 233 

Death of Dunton in 1721 . • • . asS 



AO. John Dunton » Fgbsbll 

61. Thomai Guy .*...■. i. 

52. JarobTonwn . •••*■..,. 

63. Edwd Cave „ 

S4, Jamca Lackini^on ....... ,, 

Dunton't ' Athenian Mertrjry ' . . , 2:^3 
Comparison bptive«n Dunton and Defoe . . 234 

Estimation in which Booksellers were held about 

the end of the Sevenieonih Century . . 334 
Review by Dunton of his Literary Contempora- 
ries In his • Life and Errors' . . . 234 
Extent and actiriiy of the pubUsblng buainen In 

London at the end of the Serenteentb Century 234 

Mr. KichardChlswell 236 

Thomas Gay, the Founder of Guy's HoBpiUl . 236 
Superior acquirements of the Booksellers of the 

time of Dunton 236 

Distin^ished nookicllers noticed by Dunton . 239 
Mr. George Sawbridgc, according to Dunton. the 

greatest Bookseller that had been in England 

for many years ...... 237 

Jacob Tonson and Bernard Lintott Immortalised 

by the association of their namen with the 

writings and wran^lings of Dryden and Pope 237 
Mr. Kallird tfie last surriTor of the Booksellert 

of Little Britain 23S 

Thomas Osborne celebrated as the publisher of 

the Uarleian MiscelUny .... 23K 
Castigation bestowed on Edmund Curll in Pope's 

* Dunciad ' 239 

The early part of the Eighteenth Century atiU 

an age of pamphleteering .... iS9 
First Number of the * Gentleman's Magazine' 

brought out by Care in 1731 . . . 239 
Revolution in the Commercial system of English 

Literature brought about by jKmesLacktngton 240 
Lacklngton's ' Memoirs of the first Forty-fire 

Years of his Life ' 340 ^J 





. 226 


. 236 

. 238 


. 240 


. 244 


Indiridual Charity probably weakened by the ge- 
neral Philanthropy of modem times . ■ 241 

.Xdncational Charities 242 

lAuemblaife of Charity Children at St, Paul's . 242 

Eaeter Hall the recognised Temple of modem 
Philanthropy 242 

EffeeU of the Supremacy of the Puritana. . 243 

i fiocieties Instituted in 1092 for the Reformation 
of Manners ...... 

' ZstabUahment of the Society for Promoting' 
Christian Knowledge in 1688 

Incorporation in 1701 ofthe Society for the Pro- 
portion of the Gospel in Foreign Parts 

ItsflrstefTorts for the Conversion of theHeathen 
made amongtrt the American Indiana . . 

Danish Foreign Mission commenced under Fre- 
derick IT. in 1703 

The reigrns of George I. and George 11. charac- 
terised by an extraordinary degree of apathy 
in the Church 343 

The Church awakened to a sense of its duties by 
th« zeal and energy of Wenley and Whitetield 

Aisoclation formed by Wilbcrforce in 17»7 to 
reaist the .Spread of open Immorality . . 

Royal Proclamation a^iust Vic<< iKsuAl In 17^7 

Hannah More'a 'Thoughts on the Manners of 
tht Qreau' published in nHH . . .244 





Publication of Hannah More'a Religious Traela 

in 1796 

Wilberforce's 'Practical Christianity,' published 

in 1797 

Endeavours of Wilberforce to promote the Ob- 

serrancA of the Sabbath . . . . 
Bill brought into Parliament In 1799 for the 

SupprcMion of Sunday Newspapers 
Endeavour of the Bishop of London to put down 

Sunday Concerts and Sunday Club-meetings 
Sunday Card-parties and Sunday Concerts now 

unheard of amongst the higher claasea . 

Abolition ofthi- Slave Trade in 1807 
Act passed iu 1833 for emancipating every Slave 

in the British Dominions .... 
The Conaumption of West India Produce ab- 

Btain«d from hy the Friends of the Slare 

Trade Abolition 

Associationa formed to stop the Consumption of 

West India Produce .... 

Ohotaelea encountered by the Friends of Anii- 

SlaTery ....... 

Motion for the Reform of the Criminal Lawa 

brought forward by Sir Barauel Uomilly in 


Bill lo repeal the Shoplifting Act thrown out In 

the Loi^lnin 1813 













XV ti 


De&tn of Sir Sunoel RoroUly In IBU . . 117 
Plan Mt oa foot by GoT#rDment for iirotnoUng 
ibe Emtjirniliuu of the NBtirp* uf Ai'rica to the 
Britinh Colours ia the Wett , . 14B 
Exlnctfroni Mr. Carlyle't 'Put and Preient' 24H 
^V|ld Br*Mc II £&rter'ChBn^ . . . %iv 
Exeter Hall completed in \^\ , , , 24tf 
Interior of Hveler Hall .... :M9 
A«p«ct of Eieter Hull on ihe oceuionof s Pub- 
lic McetiDfT 349 

Anniv«mry Meelin(^ held at Exeler Hatl . 3S0 
Meeting h<>ld at Kxelor Ukll in June, 1B13, for 
the purpoM of pruniotiii(£ I'lihstiau Uuioa 
unoog tbe different Relii^iuus bodivi uf Eng- 

Und 250 

Entbaaiasm f^c-nerklly prevailing nl the Mevtitigs 

Ia Eietfr Ukll 2^1 

HaydoD's Picture of the Meelin; of Delefcalcs 
for the Abulilioa of Slavery throughout tbe 
Worid, h»M In June. 1S40 . . .161 

AdrfreHof Thomii*Clark»on at th« Auli-SIavery 

Mreiin^ in June, 1840 . . . .231 

AQDoal Meetiofc of tbe Britiah and Foreign Anli- 

Slavery Society 252 

>le«liQ^ in Eaeter Hall of the Society for tb« 
Eaiiaciion of tbe SUtb Trade . . . 253 

S^ken at tbe May Meetioga in Exeter HaU 253 
ClrcuioKribed Fame of ib« Speaken and Lcadexa 
at Exeter HaU 333 

Meeting of the Weileyan Miaslonary Society at 

Kiet«r Hall in May. Ifi43 . . , 353 

Meeting oflhe amrch 31iMionary Society , U59 
Meeting of tbe Committer of the Brtiiab and 

Foreign Bible Society to complete tbe Or^- 

niiation of the New Institution . , , 353 

Firit Meeting of the Bible Society held In May, 

1904 . . . . . . . ai3 

Tbe Baptiit Mlitiiouary Society . . , 254 

Income and Kxpeuditure of the London Mia- 

■ionary Society . . , . , 254 

The Church Fnatoral Aid Society , . . 354 

Incurae of thu Soriety for tbe Propagation of 

CbriNtianity amorit^t the Jews . , . 354 

Society for Protnattng Christian Knowledge . 264 
lU'ligioua Tract Society eatablished lu 1790 .254 
Siuumary of the Ueceipts and Expeodituie of 

Religious and Benfvoletit Socielieafur 1841-3 355 
llanoTcr Square Kouma occaitonally uaed for 

the Meeting! of Religioua Societiet . • 354 
Extiibitioni at Exeter Hall of Mr. Hutlafa'a Sya- 

lem of Popular Stugtu; . • • ■ 360 


5A, Exctpr HaU. from the Slnod 
M. Interior of Eieter HaU 



Eag w fM 



Tbt Zoological Gardena one of tbe moat attrac- 

tivr apola in London .... 

Kodei of obtaining Admiiaion to tbe Zoological 

Gardena .*..... 

T%eCamiTar«TerTac« in the Zoological Gardena 
Tbe CoraMOW ...... 

Tbe Cinnamnn Beara ..... 

Modr of catching Ibe American Black Bear . 

TUt Macaw Cage 

Tbe Coreopaia Goose ..... 
Swiftneaa of the Dromedary .... 

IW MonAun 

Strong attachment to Man erineed by Ibe Wulf 
Ordinary u«e to which the Cuba Bloodhound ia 

put by the Spauuirda . . . « 

Aneedote of ibe Cuba Bloodhound given in Dal- 

baT ' Hialoryof tbe Marooni' , 
tJaa made by the Kaintchatkon of the Brown 


Thm Malayaji Sun- Bear .... 

Tlw Byvna the aubject alike of ancient and 

tacdem fkble ...... 

Tlk« U}*ua'« lore of human Heib . . . 

Aquatic Birda in the Zoological Gardena 

T^itf Polar Bear . . ... 

KxmarkabLe Lcuactly of life in tbe Condor . 

The Otter 

Tbe Monkry-Honae ..... 

Gvmbola of tha Monkeya ... * 

Th« Monkey's power of locomotion . 

t T>*e Parrot-Houie ..... 

|Tb« OwU' Cage* 











The Bison 207 

Passage from Franklin on the Habita of the 

white -beaded Engic ..... 267 
Tbe Note of the wild Swan . . .267 
The Emu one of the Wonders of the Animil 

Creation ....... 267 

Repoftilory for tbe Camivoroui Animals in the 

Zoological Ganieos . . . . , 368 
Tbe Puma erroneously suppoted to be irreclaim- 

abte 208 

Miraculous Feats attributed to tbe Lion and the 

Tiffer 208 

Hflbitations made by tbe Natives of South Africa 

tu protect themscWea against the Incuraions 

of Wild Beasts 268 

Collection of Doga in the Zoological Gardens * 269 

TbeN>l-ghAu 309 

The Wapiti Deer 209 

Ferocity of tbe Cape Buffalo . . . 260 

Peculiaritieit of tbe Indian Rhinoceros . . 269 
Alleged hostility between tbe Elephant and the 

Rhinoceros 269 

The Wild Boar 2^0 

Tbe Collared Peccary 270 

Tbe Giraffe House and Park . . . .270 

Ch tract cnaiica of the Ourang-outan . . 271 
Expenditure on the Zoological Gardens, from 

1025 to 1840 373 

Sources of the Funds of tbe Zoologirxl Society 273 
Number of Fellows and Fellow* Elect of iha 

Zoological Society 7'9 






97. Tb« CuniTon T«mce , • . ■ 

58. Coreopiis Geeie 

59. Cluueur aud Cuba Bloodhoundi 

60. Vl«w of the GanlLUi from the Bridge . 

61. Rhiooceros, from the ipocimeu In thi Gudeoi 

62. The GinUre lioiu 


Jackson . 

. 2a7 



. 2fi0 

. 26a 


Jacuoh • 

. 260 


. 370 


. Z71 











Buddenoew of the growth of the I>ruaa of the 

£Uiab(;Uiau Ers ■ . . • • 

Dninialic ^Vritcri up to the yc&r 1080 • 
Bhaktperc, uDquestionnbljr Conlcuipor&ry with 

Pc«le, Greene, Marlowe, &c. . 
fihakspere a Sh&niholdcr in the Blackfri&ra 

Theatre iu Ut!9 ..... 

i ICulowt't * Tauiborloine the Great.' and ' Mb»- 

Mcre of PariB,* probably writtea before 1589 
Dnmttic Wrilcrs after Sliiiks|it*re . . 
State of llie Theutrca uf Louduu io the time of 

Sh&ktipere ...... 

Court farour enjoyed by Players in the reign of 


Chief London Theatres In the year 1663 • 

Number of Actors in Loudon in 1386 

The Blackfriar* the llicaLrc at which Shakiii>rro 

probably mode lu9 Hrst appetrance. both as 

Actor and Writer . . ■ . • 
The Blacldriars Theatre erected in conaequence 

of tbo expuUion of Playen from the limit* of 

the City 276 

The Children of Her Majesty's Revels . . 270 

Accvminodaiiuni of the Blackfrlors Theatre . 276 
Tlic Blackfriars probably pulled down soou aAer 

the permanent close of the Theatre* . . 276 
The Globe Tfaoatre erected in 1593 . , 276 

Uescripllon of the Globe Theatre in the Chorui 

to • Heury the Fifth * 277 

Simplicity of the Old Stage . . . .277 

lutcriur of a Theatre on the &ni night of a new 

piece in the time of Jonaon . « 

, The Globe Theatre bnmt to the ground in 1613 
, The Globe, rebuilt in 1G14 .... 
The Fortune Theatre, built about 1690 . 
' Arrangement of the Interior of the Fortune . 
The Balcony of the Old Tlieatrea . 
Chief Actore in the time of Shnkipero • • 
Prices of Admisiion to the Old Theatrei , , 

I Paatage from Ben Jonson'a * Bartholomew Fair ' 
[fainted Scenea of the Theatrei of the Shaks- 

perian Kra 


, ^ . , . . .280 

['Old Stage Dhrectiona 280 


Btage Dlreetioua to Greene's * Alnhonsus' 
Dreues and Fropertic* of the Ola Theatrec ■ 
Extract from ' The Antipodea' . . . 
Ordinance of the Long Parliament in 1642, com- 
manding the ceaitatlon of Plttyn . . 
Bc-opcning of the Theatre* in 1G47 . • 

Act paaeed in 1648 for putting down Stage Flays 
FUji acted occaiionally in priratc at the rc- 
■idcQcea of Noblemen ■ • . . 




The Cockpit in Drury Lane reK)poned in 1658 . ; 
Characteristic feature of the Restored EngUih 

Theatre 382 

The Dramatic Writer* of Uie Latter Part of the 

•Seventeenth Century 282 

Theatre in Lincoln's Inn Fields built by D'Atc- 

nant in 1002 282 

Fai-nura *faown Io D'Avenant by Chorte* II. . 382 
Appearance of Aclresse* on the Stage in the 

reign of Charles II 283 

Betteilon. the Actor 263 

Drydcu'fi Tratrcdiea 2S3 

Rise of thv Schoul of Genteel Comedy in the 

reign of Chorle* II 283 

The Knglish Opera in the reign of Charles II. . 283 
IVrcell's *King ArOiur* .... 283 

Theatrical Literature of the pre*cnt day • . 284 

The Italian Opera Uouiie erected by Vanbrugh 

at the B^inning of the £ighteeuth Cen- 
tury 264 

III Buccess of the Italian Opera at it* first 

Opening 184 

Musical Eatertaiiimeut* given in Italian at York 

Building* in 1/03 285 

Dramatic Italian piece brought out at Drury ~ 

Lane in 1705 385 

Altemnts to introduce the Italian Opera into 

England 3S5 

Peformance of * Atmahide ' in (be Italian Lan- 

guage, and by ItuUan Performers, in 1710 , 285 
Popularity ouon obtained iu England by the 

Italian PerforniPni 285 

Licence obtained by Killigrew for the formation 

of a Company to play at the Cockpit in Drury 

Lane 385 

Drury Lone Tbeaire purchased by Garrick and 

Lacy iu 1740 385 

Sheridan part-propiietor of Drury Lane in 1776 285. 
Drury Lane dcatroyed by Sre iu 1809 . . 385 
Covcnt Garden Theatre opened in 1733 . • 389 

Corent Garden burnt down in 1808 . • 386 

Covent Gatdeu Theatre rebuilt tty Smtrke in 

1609 286 

Stage Reformation carried on by Kcmblc . 2S6 

Cause of the U. P. Riot 386 

Uaymarket Theatre erected about 1720 . . 286 
Koote'i Perfonuancei at the Haymarket . . 386 
Lesftcr places of Dramatic Entertainment in 

London 4 ■ ■ • • . . 360 
Injur}- done to the principal Theatre* by the 

lesser houses 287 



63. View of the Old Stage and Balcony pAiaMOLT 

64. The Pari* Garden Theatre, Southwark .... „ 

65. The Globe Theatre, Bunkside ...... SiiarHEnn 

66. The Fortune Theatre, Golden Lane, Barbican, as it appeared 

in 1790 • , Fauuiolt 

C7. The Adelphl Theaue B. Slv 

68. CoTcnt Garden Theatre •••••>» SiutpHsno 


Sears . 

M • 



. 273 

. T,i 

, 277 

• 37» 
. 387 

• 3M 











Tliis Trcaatiry the kcy-itone of the Arch of 

The Roral Treuury of En^&&<l monofBctured 
oat oil Cockpit . . . . • 

Vnmii-coQrt and Cockpit cotutruCted at WfaUe- 
hallhj llenij VIII 

The Treuury Office kept at tba Cockpit, nmr 
Whit«hftll, in 1708 2d0 

Print of the Tr«aiury in Fennsnt'i * London' ■ *Ji)f) 

Plan of the Interior of the Trearar)- in the Bri- 
tiib Hiucum ...... 

Account gltcn in the * Londinum RediviTum* of 
the UiM ind ProgrcH of the Treuury Build- 

IDescription of the Treasury given by Dodiley in 

Tbc Cockpit still exiflUog in 1761 ■ . , 

The Exchequer lodjjeil in the CloUten of Wwt- 
Dinster Abbey in the reign of Edward I. . 

The DuUciofTrcuurerin thereigoofKdwordl. 

Earliequcr of Receifit . . • • . 

The Court of Exchequer iho lowest in nmk of 
the four Cuurtflof Weatmioster ... 

The Chancellor of the Exchetjucr for the time 
bclni; nominally one of the Judgei . . 

Sir Robert Walpole the lait Chancellor of the 
Excliequcr wtio lat in a judicial capaclty 

Thc Court of Exchequer formerly held In the 
King's Palace ...... 

The Tretiury robbed in the reign of Edward I. 

Deriratjona aaaigned to the name Excbequ^^r . 

Bcmoral of the Rxchequcr from Westminrter to 
Northampton In 1310 .... 

Difliculty of ascertaining the precise locality of 
the Exchequer during the Wani of the Rotes 

The ExcheiLUtr a dieck upon the ualveisallou 
of the Trettiurer ..... 

BasineM of the Exchequer in its simplest form 

Office of the Lords Commissioners of the Trea- 
sury at Whitehall ■ . • ■ . 

The Chancellor of the Exchequer not unfrc- 

















109. The Tmanry, from SL James's Park, 1773 . 

quently the same person with the Pint Locd 
of the "treuury ..... 

Old forms of transacting business long retained 
in the Exchequer . . . . • 3t>4 

Sinuige designations of the Officials of the Ex- 
chequer ....... 20d 

Present system of the Exchequer • . . 2QS 

Forms iu use in the Exchequer up to 1831 • 29S 

The real business of Finance formerly transacted 
by the Clerks of the Bank of England 

All Payments nominally made Into tlie Exche- 
quer formerly received by the Bonk . 

Deleterious influence of the old system of the 
Exchequer ...... 

The old formalities of the Exchequer abolished 

Personal associations of the Treasury ■ • 

Clerks in CjOTemraent Offices . . . 

Familiarity with great objects erroneously sup- 
posed to expand the Mind . . 

The Government Office Clerk's routiite of Life 

The young Goicrumeut Clerk . , , 

Tlic subordinnlc Government Clerk . 

The Irish Gorenimeut Clerk • . , 

Cliaraotcristifsof the Scotch Gorernmcnt Clerk 

The Treaiary the centre of the Kingdom of Go. 
vernment Clerks • • . . . 

Statesmen who have presided at the Treasury 
since tlie reign of Anue i ■ • • 

Sir Robert WUpole 

The talent of goremiag an instinct with Pitt . 

Pitt's power of Oratory iu a great mcuurc aril- 

Prominent place occupied by the Treasury in 
political caricatures aud lampooua 

Caricatures of Sir Robert Walpole and the Doke 
of Arg)'le . . . ■ . , 

Gilray's attack upon the Treasury . 

Devices by which Metaphor and Allegory have 
Bitcropted to represent the Treuury and its 

ReTcroncc entertained by some (or the Treasury 















SuitPllEUD, Jun. 







Honieultunl Exhibition at Chijwick In June, 

Tent at Ctiisnick for the Exhibition of new 
seedling Plants and Flowers . . . 

The Fruit Tsnt 

Innumerable Spccimeus of all the finest flower- 
ing Plants brought to Chiswick from all parts 
of the Kingdom ..... 

The Glaaa CoDsenratory at Chiswick 

Character of the Astcmtilage at the Chiswick 
Horticultural Exhibition .... 

BMuty of tha Women of England , . , 

K umber and Value of the Prizes given by the 
Horticultural Society .... 

Smices rendered to Horticulture since theesta- 
titislinien* of the Society in lb20 

Objf^s of the Founder* of the Horticultural So- 

Card eu i and Orchard of the Horticultural So. 
eicty . 









Scarcity of Plants known in England until the 
Thirteenth or Fourteenth Century . . 

Most of the Fruits and Vegetahlca now culti- 
vated in England introduced by the Komaus 

Privileges of the Fellows of the Horticultural 
Society 300 

Expenditure of the Horticultural Society for the 
Year 1842 

Importation of Forcigu Plants and Seeds by the 
liortlculturot Society . . . • 

Gardens In the Jliddlc Agt* ■ 

Uericriptfon given by Jnmesl. of Scotland of the 
Garden of Windsor Castle .... 

Gardens in the Suburbs of London in the reign 
of Henry 11 310 

Gardcninkf in the tjlxteenth Century , . 311 

The Knotted Garden 311 

Vegetable ProducUuui for the Tabk in iho reJiru 
ofHeno" VHl 313 

Qordona of Nonsuch • . . . . 312 











fntrodtictioa of the UIac-tfc< about the middle 
of the Sevvnteoiith Ceatarr 

Featurwof the Gardeiu of the Siiteenlh Centur; 

Illuttmlion of a popular eupentiUoQ m Quiii- 
tinjre's *Coni[il«-lo Itarilcuer' . . . 

Chaogei of Tuto id Gardening liucc the Six- 
teenth Century 

Oreenwicb and St. James's Parka Utd out uiul«r 
th« dircoiiou of L« Notre in the rtign of 
Chiulo* II. ...... 813 

KeutinKtou Ganlcna oommeaced bj Williua 
III 313 

Ronimuton Gardens laid out by WUe in the 
L rcigu uf Auiie ...... 3M 

litiie of a more natural Taste in gardening in the 

reign of Aniie ••.■•• 3M 

raller'a Garden at Beacoii«fietd . . . 3U 

"Kensington Gardens enlarged under the super* 

inteudence of Bridxemaa .... 

Formation of the Serpentine in Hyde Park 

fridenee giren by Mr. Luudoti uf tlie slate uf 
the general uleaa on tbe Sul'ject of Garden ^r 
Landscape Scenurjr ..... 

Kent the llrst true EngltJih Landicape Artiat . 

Tbe Oardeua al Claremont and £sher laid out 

by Kent 315 

The oldi?at Botanic GtLnlens iu England thiHe 
of Oxford and CheUea . . . .315 



One of tbe earliest attempte to supply Plants 
with artlftciaL heat made al Chelsea in ltiS4 . 

6beUea Gardens under the management of 
Philip Miller for a period of nearly Fifty Tears 

Arboretum at Kew e>itAhli»he<l in 1760 . 

The Arboretum at Kew greatly inferior to the 
CoUoctionin the Gardeoiof the Horticultural 
Society •*■*•■• 

The Year 1915 the period from wbioh the com- 
mencement of the present prosperity of Eng- 
lish gardening may be dated . . . 

The Uortlcultural Society the chief moTiug im- 
pulse of gardening in Uie present Day • . 

Services rendered to Botany by tbe Koyal Bo* 
tanic Society of London .... 

Incorporation of the Botanic Society in lt}39 . 

Qrouiids of the Botanic Socie^ in the Regent's 

Winter Garden about to be ertctod In the 
Grounds of the Botanic Society ... 

Collection of Agricultural Plants In the Bolaoical 
Garden* . . . . . ... 

Propoeed Museum in the Botanical Gardens . 

American Plaiils In the Botanical Gardens 

Appropriate and Poetical Names for Flowers 
chosen hy Linns us ■ . ■ • . 

Andromeda and Perseus , . . . 

View from the Mount tu the Botanical Gardens 




7I< The Horticullanil Gardens during an Bxhibilinn ■ • 

73, Interior of the Conierratory, Horticultural Gurdeni . 

73. A Knotted Garden 

74. Bowling Green ........ 

75. Qudcos of the Royal Botanical Society, Regent's Park . 




R. W. Buss 






















Bber of Persons token Into Custody hy the 
tMropoiitan Police In the Yc-ar lS;t9 . 
EiflhwftT Robberies, Burglaries, House and 

Shop-breaking, more frequent in the Suburbs 

than iu Ibe Metropolis .... 
Lrerage of Burglaries fewer in lAindon than in 

the Country 323 

Preponderance uf Pocket-pickiug and Forgery 

iu ^Liddlesex ...... 

Greater pruporliuu of Female CrimJuaU ill the 

Mclropulia ...... 

Amnmit of loss by Robbery in the Melropolitan 

Fulite District in 18.38 ...» 
Rrturu mndc by the Constabulary Commis- 

liuiicrs of the Number of Depredators and 

OBendere against the Law .... 
Return made by tlieConstabulary Commissionera 

of the Niinibt*r«f HouMa open for the Accom- 

modntlon of Dcliaquency and Vi<-e in London 
Number of Pentons supporting themselves by 

Criminal Pursuits in London 
Proportion of known bad Cbaractors in tbe 

Metropolis ...... 

Total Number of notoriously bad Charactees in 

the Parish of St.George the Martyr, Southwnrk 
Kent Street and tbe Mint tbe most notorious 

districts in Loudon for their vicious population 

'Causes of Vice iu London .... 

Fightcen Prisons in London in the Year 1706 . 

Ncwguic A Gaol in the reign of King John 

The Mambalsea and King's Bench both ancient 

Prison* 3S5 












Henry, Prince of Wales, afterwards Henry V^ ^h 

cotiHned by Judge Gascolgne in tbe King's ^| 

Bench 315 

The King's Bench thrown open during the 

Gordou RtoU 325 

Extent of the jurisdiction nf the Harsholsea 

Prison 325 

The White Lion Prison In Southwark . . 325 

The postern of Cripplegule used aa a Prison in 

the Thirlernth Ciutury .... 325 
Prr^ent Nuuibi^r of Ihe Metropolitan Prisoru . 3'25 
Tbe Fleet Prison and the Marahalsea dtscon* 

tinned iu 1843 325 

Old Prison EeguUtlons . , . .325 

Prisons in London used exclusively for Debtors 326 
Old Newgate Prison pulled down and re*built 

between 1778 and 1780 .... 326 
ImproveraentB made at Newgate since the com- 

meticemenl of the Nineteenth Century . 326 

Attempts made at a classification of the Prisonera 

in Newgate ...... 336 

Duties of the Chaplain of Kewgste Thirty Years 

ago 326 

Newgate formerly a positive Institution for tlie 

Encouragement of Vice .... 337 
The ClaHBiBcalion of Prisons proposed by tbe 

Pnrlinmentan' Committee on Metropolitan 

Gaols in 1618 327 

Attempts of Mn. Fry to improTc tbe Female 

Priftoners in Newgat« .... 327 

Occupations sjid Amnsementi of the Femala 

Prisoners in Newgate iu 1808 . . .317 



The Diwrlpline fttid AdfDinlttrtUon of Newgate 

•til] J<*r£ctive ..*... 3S8 
Rvi>ori of ihe lospecton of Frisoni on tbe Su(e 

of >>«r<aie in 1843 33S 

OUlipur Slrp*^! Complf-r .... S'iO 

At>uut tlOUO PriBou«r« Annutllj Committed to 

OitCKpur Sttvet 3J9 

Oilupur Strert tb* mo«t lotecure of the Metro* 

poliUn Pmoo* 3i9 

Toul Number of Porwnt conSneil in Brideivoll 

iuUw YMrlS42 330 

irt of the Inbpectors of Ftisoui au tbe City 

lew«n 330 

bfttfa Fields Prison the UrgeKt and mo«t 

important in Enjjland for Criminal pur- 

poaea 310 

JVomber of Pritooer* confined in Coldbath FtuMs 

rriinniolSIl, 330 

DiH:ipUiie and proceedingv of the Coldbutlt Field* 

Prifcon 331 

Fri^nn OflVnceB in Coldbaih Ficlda Prison in the 

Year IS42 331 

FuiiMhaicula in Coldbsth Fields . . . 3ii 
CletkcnwcU Prison established by Patentgrauted 

hv J*n»e« 1 332 

Demoralising effects of Impi-Uonment In Clerk- 

enwfll Prison ,.•.., 332 
The Weatminslcr BrldewvU erected In 1834 . 333 


Horaemongrer Lane Prison under the jurladietloD 

of the Snrrrj- County MngUlrates . • 

The Silent System iu opemtion for tlw convleted 

Prisoners in Horsemonger Lsne . . 

History of improvements in Prisons and Prison 

Discipline ...... 

Utiwaid's WorV on ' The State of Prisons in 

HnxlAtid and Wsica' • . . . 

DcnlliBin's Plan for Prison Maongement • • 

Tho Peniteutiary at AUUbauiL commeooed In 


The Separate Syatem brought into operation in 

Kn;jUiid in 1790 
Uniiealth) *itiiation of the Millbank Peniteutiary 
TIte iViDifu^iary in future to be desi^atcd tbe 

Millbsuk Prison 

Rvlaxaliou of the Separate System in Millhank 

Prisnu in consequence of lui iucieaao in the 

Number cfliiKinf Priaouem . . 

Plan of thp Millhank Priwu .... 
Mode of Discipline ailopted at the New Model 

Prison at Pentonvllle .... 

Commissioners for the Control of ihc Miwlel 

Prison nomiasU>d by ihc Queen iu Ci>unt-il . 
Objcctk to be ki^pt in «iew at the Model i'rlraii 

explniiifd hy Sir Jnmes Gmbrtm . 
Internal nrrangemenU nf the Model Pn»on 
Treatment of tbe Pri&ouera iu the Model Prison 


-«. The Model Priaou, PentonftUe 
77. »K(fatt .... 

















A Ni u^pBpl■^ iudltpmaahle lo the Englishman 337 
Nrw«pap«if in the Colonies . . < • 337 

Ite ?^«n*pnpcr s European Inrenlion . • 33fl 

Aela Diuma of the UoTuum . . > 938 
city ctten to all tbe Proecedines of tbe 

Senate diinni; ibe Con>»ulfc)iip of Julius Ciesar 338 
rii^tc Gaaetlerrs in Loudon before llie tulroduc- 

IkMi of Printed NcnspRpera . . . 338 

^ ~ of communical-in(j! Military nnd Com- 
laJ News resartrd lo by the Vcnrtian 

Oovtrnmetit 336 

■The English Mercuric* preserved in tbe British 

Maaeum S30 

The NcMs Book 330 

Object of ibe private Xcivs Publisher . . 330 

GoTcrament Guctles ..... 338 
Periodic!*! Nevkipsprni drst published at the Com- 

mcnceucni of ibv Seventrenlh Crntury . 340 

•TTw News of the Present Week," the Hrst 

Weekly Newspaper in England . . , 3-10 
DilTrrpiice b^-lwcen the London uiid Parisian 

Ty|>« of Newspapers . • . . ■ 340 
psrb (be Focus of tbe Inletlectua) Actiiity of 

Kufope 340 

DttTervuL-a beliveen the Fulilical Character a&d 

K«r)ilioni of I^nilon and Paris . . . 341 

DilTereitee in the Histonfal Development of 

Ihe Frame of Oorernment in France and 

EngUnd 341 

• Tb« lutelligeucer' 341 

Thm Manufscture of Euf^lish NtfW«napcr« for a 

toiij; tune confined exclusively to London . 31'-! 
Ti*c ' Norwich Fvttmno ' publi*<hc(] in PiM} . 343 
Tise 'Ucrcurios Polilicus' punted at l.ciih in 

1633 343 

Tile earliest pcrmaiieut Scotch Newspoijers . 349 
All new PioviiK'ial NenvKpuprra framed upon 

the Model of the Lun<Uin Jntirnul* , . 341 

The grealt-r perl of London Newspapers printed 

and publislieit in the Strand ami 1 h l-i Street 343 
Three disTincl Classenof Persons employed about 

Newopaiteni ...... 349 

Capital Investrd in the Daily Papers of Lon- 
don ....... 343 

The 'Times' takenBsanF.aampleofihe Manner 

tn which a Daily Psppr is got up . . 343 

Duties of the Editors and Reporters of th« 

•Timts* 343 

Process of R«-porlin^ Parliamentary Debates . 343 

Priiitin^f of Ihc ' Times ' . . . . 344 

Sise of tiie ' Times * 344 

Eatract from the Returns of the Newspaper 

Stamp und Atlvrrliseuifnt Duly ... 3-14 

Managemrnt of n 'Weekly Paper Fstablinhment 344 

Offices of Ihe Weekly Papers iu Fled Slieet . a-*fi 

Business of (he Publisher of a Newspaper • 346 

Small Ni'ivsTcndecs ..... 346 

The Radical New-Bwnder . . . . :t47 

The London Newspaper Agent . . 347 

Supply of London NeMspaperi to the Provinces 348 
ALtivity set iu Motion iu unler to keep up ibe 

LnnJuM Newspapers ..... 348 
Suuduy and Saturday alike Dnj) of Sulv with 

the Newsicnder . . . . • 348 

The NewCTciiders' Boy .... 349 

Diinivr ^iten by the Proprietors of the London 

Puptrrt tn the Newsveoilers and Ihcii* Servants 3-tO 

liitelWtMul Charccter of Hiili^li Journalists , 349 
Alleged bupertonty of the >'r«neh Newsi^sper 

Prass over iha Eiigllab .... 330 



Cluraflisr of MercuiUtc SpoculMtion prepondcr- 

■ting in Ku{^listi Noivspapen . . • 
The iMily Pipers lets Narrator* of Events than 

Mirrors uf tbK TrAnnactioiii therauelvM • 

Keunipiipcri nt one Time not ntlowed to report 

llie Proceedm^ of Furlianipnt . 
Wearisamc Fidelily vrilh wtiich the DebatM in 

Parliament arc reported in the Dally Pupero 
Strongly- marked Spirit of IndLTiduality of each 

of tne leading Daily Papers . , . 

Characteristics of tlie ' Times ' . . . 

Characteristics of th« principal D&ily Papers . 




The eielusiTely Literary Papers . f • 351 
The lezdiiu; Political Weekly Papera . . 351 
' Belt's Life in London ' the only exCiUBlvelj 

Sporting Pitper • . . . . 351 

The Faafafonahle Papers . . . .351 
Agricultural Papers • . • . .351 

Comrncrciat Journals . > . . . 351 

Special Journala of almost every Glass aud Fro- 

fcssiou ....... 351 

N(*wspapen< of Religious Sects . . , 352 
lUuktralod Newspapera • • • • • 353 


78. ' A Perfect Diurn^ll of the Passage* in Parliament ' 
70. ' Glorious News.' — Uom-boy« . # . . 

B. Sly 




Serrlees rendered by the Society of Arts . 
The Society of Arts established iu 1751 . 
The Society of Aru settled iu the Adelptii in 


Fi)nire of Pence sent to the Society of Arti hy 

Bucon in 1758 

Bacon'ii Work* now at the Adolphl . . 

Rewards of Merit given by the Society of 


Fimt public Exhibition orpatntltiii in England 

in the Rooms of the Society of ArtK 
Services rendered by the Society of Arts to the 

MaiiufiictureB and Commerce nf England 
Impulse given to the Growth of Forest Trees by 

the Society of Arta . • ■ • . 

Movement in Atcriculture made throogh the 

Ajjency of the Society of Arts . . . 

improvements made in Chemtstryi Manufac- 
tures, and Mechuiics genchdly, through tho 

Meujis of the Society of Arts ... 
Rewards given by the Society of Arts to the 

Buthnal Gr«en and SptlalHeldn VVenvers . 

Distinguishing Feat(ire« of the Society of Arti . 
BewBjnla given by, and general Proreeilitijipi of, 

the Society of Arts during the Year 1913 
Model-Room of the Society of Arts 
Coume pursued by the Society of Arts in he- 

fti'iwini? Rewards or Premiums . 
SubjectH for which Premiums are offered by the 

Society of Arts ...... 

Improveroeni capable of being made in the So- 
ciety of .Arts .,,.,, 
Characteristics of Barry .... 

Straggles of Barry in the e&tly Fart of his 

Career ....... 

The Decoration of St. Pnul's proposed to the 

Royal Acftdemy . • * < . 

















Offer of Barry to decorate the Rooms of the So- 
ciety of Arts , . . . . 

Magnitude of Barry's Undertaking . 

The Principle of Civilitation forcibly embodied 
in Burr/s Picture of Orpheus . . ■ 

Alteration!! iuMde by Barry in hin Etching of hl« 
Pieture of ' Orpheus civilising the Inhabitanta 
of Thrace' 

Barry'a ' Grecian Harvest Home' . 

' The Victors at Olympia* . . . . 

Dingoras nf Rhodes > . . ■ . 

Barrr repre^'uled by himself in the Character 
of Timanlhcs in the ' Victors at Olyuipin ' • 

Canom's Testimony to the Merits of Barry's 
Picture of the ' Viclors at Olympia* . 

FHilure of the fourlli nf Harry's Pirtnres . 

Barry*! Pirliire of ilic Meeting of the Memhen 
of the Society of Arts for the Annual Distri* 
bution of iho Premiums . • • • 

Barry's ' View of EUtdutn' .... 

Answer of Barry to the Objections raised against 
' Elysium* ...... 

Grmiping of the Chararle,™ in Barry'a • Ely- 
nliini '..... . . 

Features in the 'View of Elysium' conapicn- 
ourly exhibiting Barry's Judgment . • 

Anecdotes relating to the *\iew of Elysiom * 
told in Cuiioingham's ' Lives of the Pain- 
ters' ....... 

Barry's Mod« of Subnislence during the Pro- 
gresR (if his Work , . . . . 

Completion of Barrj's Paintings in l7l*3 , 

Exhibition of Barry's Pictures for bii Benefit . 

Sum of Money gained by the Exhibiliou of 
Harry 'n I'.iintiiin;^ ..... 

Mmicy presented to Barry on the Compfetion of 
his Work •■.••» 

. 337 


80. Barry's Pictures — Grecian Harvest Home . • . . 

Bl. Model Room of the Society 

B% Portrait of Uarry 

S3. Barry's Pictures — Orpheus CiviUcing the Inhabitants of Thrace 

84. Barry's Picturvs — The Victors at Olympia .... 

85. Barry's Piclureti — View of Elysium ..... 

86. Barry's Pictures — Elysium, or tJie Slate of Fiuttl Retribution . 



















. 3S3 


Jackson . 

. 357 



. 35» 


Va6BT • 

. 3oa 


. 364 


. 366 


Siaus > 

. a«» 






Pa OB 
The Loudoa HocptUla more eminent u Schools 
o''MMicinF thkn for their influence M Social 

Ixuitittitiuiui 969 

Limited Cnpadt)- of The London Hoipitalt . 360 
Su Bortbolomevr's Hospital FounitLsl iu 1123 . 369 
St. Bartholomew*! ilospitnl granted, to tli« 

City in IMS 370 

St. Bartholomew'^ Hospital newtjr Incorporated 

it) liU 870 

£ap*>nditure of St. Bartholomew*! Hospital in 

1U2 370 

Frr«ent Income of St. Bartholomew*! Hospitjl 370 
Interior of St. Bartholomew's Hospitnl . . 370 

B*n^ of Building;! at the hack of ih« Western 

yfiag of St. Bartholomew'* Uotpital . . 371 

Sl Tbomai'! Ho«piiftl originally a Reli^oui 

EalabUshment 371 

SL Thomaa'a Honpital oprnpd for the icceplion 

of DuMaed People in ):5d3 . . . 371 

OroM Annual Income of St. Thomos'a Hoapit&l 371 
Addition! made to St. Thomna'i tio«pitaI in 

1732 371 

The Mu*eam of St. Thomai*! Hoapital . . 371 
The Founder of Guy's Hospital . . . 372 

Bei^urat! to Guy's Hmtpllal tinre ila Foundation 773 
Suiuc of Mr. Gay in the Sqaaro of Guy'! 

llMpital 373 

Arrangemenl of the Interior of GuyV Hospital 372 
Lnnttlic Houne belonging to Guy's Uo«pital . 3T2 
Botanic Garden of Guy> Hospital . . . 373 

Cooalitoltan of the London tioapilala • ■ 373 

OoveruortufSu Thomaa'a HospiLul . . 373 

The QoTvmment of Guy's HospiTal settled by its 

Founder ....... 378 

Sdedical and Surreal EaUbUthment at S(. Bar* 

tbfiloincw's 373 

I>atiea of the Hospital Dreaacrs . . .374 
The Sisten of the Wards ^ . • . .374 
DiiUeaof Che Hospital Nurae . . . . 37i 
Mttat Common Offence! against the Hospital 

Rcytllationa 374 

F'vrm of Admission to the London Hospital! . 379 
Avpnce Number of Daily Adroiasion* into the 

London Hospitals ..... 37ft 
GtRFfal Arraugement and Hegutationa of SL 

Thomaa'a Hospital ..... 37ft 
Arrangemmli and R<fgutationi of Gay*! Hospital 375 
In.partance of th« Great London HospilaU as 

Schools of Medicine 376 

John Hunter*! .Medical Lectures, the flnt ever 

dfliirrt'd lu London . . • . . 376 

3d*-dtcal lectures delivered by Mt. Aberccthy . 370 
Adcautiffcs of a Medical School connected with 

■ Hospital 376 

The Schooln of Surgery of St. Thomas's aiul 

Guy's Hotpital L nlled, from l7St> to IH'i.'i . 376 
Ttt* Office of Anatomical Lecturer at St. 
Thiiuins! tilled fur niauy years by Sir Aslley 

C(M>tvr 376 

FrisUri:*-* of the Students In Guy's Restricted by 
the Authorities of SL Thomas's Hospiul 377 


^estminsfer Ho«plUl Established in 1719 . 377 
EslaldishmCDt of St. George's Hospital in 1733 377 
Tlie London Hospiul removed to Whltecbapei 

in 1739 , ,377 

The Floating; Hospital 378 

The Middlesex Hospital Established In 1740 . 378 
Date of the Lstabliuhment of the Principal Hos- 
pitals uf Loudon 37S 

Population of the Principal General Hospitals 

of Loudon on the day of the Census in 1811 . 378 
Sanatorium in the New Road Opened in IfHi . 379 
L)ing-in-HacpitaIs In different parts of the Me- 

trapoUs ....... 379 

Number of Lunatics and Idiots in Confinement 

u-ithiu the limit! of the Metropolitan Lunacy 

Commisalonert ..... 379 

Bethlem Hospital Founded as a Convent in 1247 370 
The Hous« Ql'Bethlem conrerted into an Hoe- 

pit-il ill 1330 379 

Purchase of Bethlem hy the City in IftW . 379 

Betblem Hospital under the Control of the 

Governors ol Brideirell • . • • 379 

PuDds of Bethlem Hospital . . . .3^0 

Total Income of the Real and Personal Estate 

of Bettilem Hniipital for the year euding 

Chnstmas, IS.'iG 3^0 

Description of Old Bethlem Hospiul In lt{33 , 3S0 
New Bethlem Hospital Commenced in 161'} , 360 
Description of Bethlem Hospital in au KdiUon 

of Stow, ui 1764 381 

Report of a Committee in April, 1799, on the 

•lateofBvtlilem Hospital .... 381 
Pi-e-'cU Site of Bethlem Hospital settled in 

1^10 381 

Steps inlten to obtain the Necessary Funda for 

the Building of Bethlem Hospital . . 381 

Completion of Bellilem Hjspilol in 1315 , . 3R2 

The Wings of Betlilero Hospital appropriated to 

Criminal Lunntics 3S3 

Additions made to Bethlem Hospital in 1637 . 383 
Regulation! and A rra.Dgt-menta of Bethlem 

Hospital 383 

Brutal ijslem of Treatment formerly carried on 

at Bethlem 383 

Report of a Comnuttee Appointed in 1598 to 

view Bethlem 383 

ludiacriminale admission of Visitants to Bethlem 

Hospital 383 

Eiposure in 1614 of the Wretched System pur> 

sued at Bethlem 383 

Dcspripiion of one of the Women's Galleries in 

Balilem Hospital 363 

Imprui^inents in ilie System of Management at 

Bethlem Commenced about 1815 . . S83 

St. Luke's HoRpiul opened in 1731 . . 383 

]ncum<> of St. Luke's HoHpilol . . , 384 

Lunatir Asylum fur the County of Middlesex, 

situated at Hntiwell 364 

Admirable System of Management at the Han- 
well LunaUo Asylum . . . ■ 384 


If?. Bartholomew's Hospital 
fll%. Si, Geon^e's Hospital 
9. BetUlcui Hus|>ital 





' 869 



. 377 
. 384 






The Rhopa of London in UiemBflvei k Ttrj Cj- 

cloptedit of Knowledge . . . • 

TLe Shop* of Lonilon among Ibe most luggcBttve 

of all Subjects for R«H«rltOQ 
fienenil Clmracler of llie Shop* m Old London 
Old tioutes in Grny'i Inn Lane 
Tbe Bazomr Syvtein oioro exteusive]}- adopted in 

London in the Tirelfth Century than at (he 

present lime ...... 3^6 

Namra of the older London Streets . • 386 

E.iiing>houw3 on ttie Bsnka of the Thamea in 

tJie Twelfth Ceiilnry .... 

Tbe Frippery or Cloibes-ihopi of the Time of 

the E<lw&rd» and Hrnrj-s . . * . 

Print in Smith'* ' Antiqiiilir<<4 of L<iridnn' of an 

old HoateformerlVRtiuidlng in Chancery Lane 
Sbop-windowi ccmmon to the nign o( Ed- 

ward V[. .,•... 

Print of Wincheatcr Street, London Wall, in 

Smith's ' AnliquilicB of Londun' . • 

HepreHeDlalii>uH ufuld Houkt-a in London (pven 

in Smith's ' Anliquities of Loiiduti' 
Snsh-windoivx to SIio]ih iiitroiltiiL-4'il nbout the 

beginning of the Kighteenth Centtirjr . . 

Unlvenal praetice of plnciitg Sign-board* over 

Shop* until the commencement of the 

Eighteenth Century ..... 
Itinerant Shops in London in the Eighteenth 

Century 380 

Progress of Improrement in ibe Loudon Sbopa 360 
Picture of lh« London Shops given in Southey's 

* Letters of E«priella ' .... 

The Public HoufifTt of London • . . 

Taveni*) »nd Gin Palncrt . . • . 

The London Tavern-keeper .... 
Interior of the London Gin Palaces . 

Splendour of tbe Gin Palaces situated in the 

Seven Dial* and Whitecliapel . . . 

B«*i>ectability of the T&tcrtu at the West End 

of London .,..,, 

B&ktr«' Shops In London .... 
Advance made by Chemists in Shop Arcfailec* 

lure and Anangements .... 
Little change which has taken place in the 

Bulcbers' Shops tn Luniloii . . > 
Msgoilicence uf the GrocerK* Shops of the Me- 
tropolis 39! 

The Shops devoted to tbe Sale of Wearing Ap- 
parel the most remarkable in London . . 3UI 
The Principle of CompelitLon drivtMi farther in 

the Drapery Btwiuesa than in most others . 391 
Effects of the Rise of Cotton Manufactures in 

England 301 

Tbe Goods expofted in tlie Drapers' Shop* In 

Wbilechapel genenUl} of aa bumble and 

cfausp Kind ..••.. 3J2 













Extnordiniry Shop in Aldgate * . ■ J99 
MaKniHrence of the DntjierB* Shopi) in St. Paul'i 
Churchjaid ...... 393 

Draper's Shop on I.iidgnt*.' Rill . . . ^3 

Remarks in the ' "WMtrainsfer Review ' on the 
Architecture of the Draper sSbop on Ludgaie 

Hill 39» 

Elegance of the Sliopti in Oxfurd Street . . 303 
Obsenutions in the ' Cumpunion to the Alma* 
nac' on a Draper's Shop at ihe Soutbem End 
of tbe Quadrant in Regent Stn-et . . 393 
System of Competition carried un in the Lon- 
don Shop* 394 

Changei in Shop .\rrangements . . . 304 
Letters to atUbct Koiice over Shop M'iu- 

dow* 394 

Caich-words in Shops to attract the Notice of the 

Faasersby 394 

Underselters ...... 394 

Remark* in Defoe t * Complete Trideiniaa' on 

underselling ..*... 394 
Tailors' and Hatters' Shops .... 395 

Fanciful Arrxngemrnls of Modem Timet ex* 
hililted in the Sho{>a of the Bootmakert of 
London ...... 39} 

A Modem English Bazaar not m genoine tepre* 

scntHtivc oflheCiau .... 395 

Articles sold iu the Suho Buanr . . . 39(} 

Rules of the Soho Batiar .... 3Un 

Interior of tbe Panthron Buxaar . . ■ 3Ut{ 

CommoilitieR Rolil at the Pitntccbnicon • . 397 

Chief commodities diftplu}ed iu the Buker Street 

Basnar 397 

The North London Repository . . • 307 
The Burlington and Luutber Arcades . . 397 

Multifarious articles displayed in the Window of 
a Puvrnhroker'i Shop .... 397 

Broker*' Shops 398 

Curiosity Shops in Wardour Street . . 3i>8 

Cellar Shops in Monmouth Street . . . 39S 
Shops for the Sale of Second-hand Uanneati in 

Holywell Street and Field I^aue . . . 398 

Aiovmuliuje ofSbopi fur the Sale of old Commo- 
dities in the vicinity of Drury Lane . . 398 
Tbe daily crotiomy of Londnn Shops . . 398 

Opening of London Shops in the Morning . 309 
Art and dexterity displayed in tbe arra.ngenient 
of (be commodities in Drapers' and Mercerv* 

Shops 3P0 

Duties of the Shop Walker .... 30ft 

Brilliancy of ihe London S)iop« it Nighl . . 3tlft 

The question of Shop.Bhmilngasuhjvct of much 
diicusvinn ...... 390 

Skrtch given in Dpfne's * Complete Tradesman ' 
of Shopkeeping iu 1727 . . . 400 


K). Old Shop, corner of Fleet Street and Chancery Lane, in 1799 

91. A Irippery 

V'i. Kemble Tirirn, Bow Street, Lon(f Acre - . , • 

ft3. Shoji tu Reurni Street • 

91. Panlheon BiuwiU . . 








Sl,*UKK . 




Hollowat . 




Jauiuhmi , 4uQ 



Among those mysterious places which one constantly hears of, without being able 
very clearly to understand, is that knuwn by the scarcely less mysterious appel- 
lation of Doctors* Commons. We arc aware that it is a locality which has a 
great deal to do with wills, and something with matrimony — that husbands, for 
instance, go there to get rid of unfaithful wives— wives of unfaithful or cruel 
husbands; and that, we believe, is about the extent of the general information on 
the subject- Many, no doubt, like ourselves, have thrown a passing glance into 
that well-known gateway in the south-western corner of St. Paul's Churchyard, 
with a vague sentiment of curiosity and expectation, and have added as little as 
we have to their slender stock of information by so doing : the most noticeable 
feature being the board affixed to the wall by the " Lodge," calling on strangers 
to "stop/* and warning them against the blandishments of certain porters; whilst, 
as an amusing commentary, one of the said offenders is sure to come up to yoa 
with a delightful air of unconscious innocence to repeat the offence. Bat the 
desire to serve their fellow-creatures is evidently a passion with the porters of 
Doctors' Commons : there is nothing they are not prepared to do for you, even 
if It be to offer to relieve yonr failing sight by reading aloud the very warning 
in question. Well, we have no cause to answer or to institute, • so are in no 
VOL V. ■ 


danger of being seduced into employing our volunteer guide's favourite proctor; 
but he shall lead us through these comparatively unknown regions. The word 
Ixidge naturally makes us look for the edifice of which it is an appendage, and 
as we pass through the gateway a stately house, on the right of the small open 
square^ presents itself, enclosed within lofty walls : but that, it appears, is the 
Dean of St. Paul's house. As we stej) into Carter Lane^ we arc reminded of the 
palace formerly standing here, called the Royal Wardrobe, and to which the 
widow of the Black Prince, the once " Fair Maid of Kent/" was brought after 
the frightful scene in the Tower, in 1381, when the followers of Wat Tyler broke 
into it, murdered the chief, men they found there, and treated her so rudely 
that she fell senseless; and here in the evening of the same day her son King 
Richard joined her. From Carter Lane a narrow passage leads us into Knight 
Rider Street, deriving its name from the circumstance, aa our guide informs ns, 
with a smile and a look which seem to express his wonder at his own learning, 
that the train of mounted knights used to pass through this street in the olden 
time on their way from the Tower to the tournaments in Smithficld. That fact 
having been dulv impressed, he next points out to us the famous Heralds' Col- 
lege on Bennetts Hill; and, laslly, the inscription over a plain-looking build- 
ing opposite, " the Prerogative Will Office " — one of the most iuteresting and im- 
portant features of Doctors' Commons. Persons are passing rapidly in and out 
the naiTOW court, their bustle alone disturbing the marked (juiet of the neigh- 
bourhood. At the end of the court we ascend a few steps and open a door, when 
the scene exhibited in the engraving at the head of this paper is before us. At 
first all seems hurry and confusion, or at least as if every one had a great deal 
of work to do, in a very insuflicient space of time. Rapidly from the top to the 
bottom of the page run the fingers of the solicitors' clerks, as they turn over leaf 
after leaf of the bulky volumes they arc examining at the desks in the centre, 
long practice having taught them to discover at a glance the object of their 
search ; rapidly move to and fro those who arc fetching from the shelves or 
carrying back to them the said volumes ; rapidly glide the pens of the nume- 
rous copyists who are transcribing or making extracts from wills in all those little 
boxes along the sides of the room. But ns we begin to look a little more closely 
into the densely packed occupants of the central space, we see persons whose air 
and manners exhibit a striking difference to those around them : there is no mis- 
understanding that they are neither solicitors nor solicitors' clerks acting for 
others, but parties whose own interests may be materially affected by the result 
of their search. Even that weather-beaten sailor just come in, whose face one 
would think proof against sensibility of any kind, reveals the anxiety of its 
owner. He has just returned probably from some long voyage, and one can 
fancy him to have come hither to sec whether the relative, who, the new8i)apers 
have informed him, is dead, has left him. as he expected, the means of settling 
down quietly at home at Deptford, or Greenwich, or some other sailor's paradise. 
He steps up to the box here on our right hand, just by the entrance, pays hia 
shilling, and gels a ticket, with a direction to the calendar where he is to search 
for the name of the deceased. He must surely be spelling every name in that 
page he has last turned over; aye, there it is ; and he now hurries off, as directed, 
with the calendar^ to the person pointed out to him as the clerk of searches. A 






Volume from one of the shelves is immediately laid before him, the place ia 
found, and there lies the object of his hopes and fears — the eventful will. Lino 
by line you can see his face grow darker and darker — a grim smile at last ap* 
peart — he has not been forgotten — there ia a ring perhaps — or five-pounds to 
buy one, or some such trifle ; the book is hastily closed ; and the sailor hurries 
back to his old privations and dangers^ deprived of all that had so long helped 
him to pass through them with paticnco, if not cheerfulness. Here again is a 
picture of another kind : a lady, dressed in n style of the shou icet extravagance, 
whose business is evidently of a more impurlant kind than a mere search — an 
executrix probably — is just leaving the office, when at the door she is met by 
another lady, with so low a ciirtesy, and with such an expression of malice in the 
countenance, as at once tellslhe story confirmed by their respective appearances. 
The successful and the unsuccessful have met. The former, however, hurries 
away, or we should have a scene from nature, that Fielding or Moliere might 
hare been pleased to witness. 

When we consider the immense amount of business transacted in this Court, 
wc need not wonder at the bustle that prevails in a place of such limited dimen- 
sions. As the law at present stands, if a person die possessed of property lying 
entirely within the diocese where he died, probate or proof of the will is made or 
Administration taken out before the Bishop or Ordinary of that diocese ; but if 
there were goods and chattels only to the amount of 5/.* (in legal parlance, bona 
notabilia) within any other diocese, and which is generally the case, then the 
jurisdiction lies in the Prerogative Court of the Archbishop of the province, that 
is, either at York or at Doctors' Commons — the latter, we need hardly say, being 
the Court of the Archbishop of Canterbury. The two Prerogative Courts 
therefore engross the great proportion of the business of this kind through the 
country ; fur although the Ecclesiastical Courts have no power over the bequests 
of or succession to unmixed real property, if such were left, cases of that nature 
•eldom or never occur. And, as between the two provinces, not only is that of 
Canterbury much more important and extensive, but since the introduction of 
the funding system, and the extensive diffusion of such property, nearly all 
wills of importance belonging even to the province of York arc also proved in 
Doctor's Commons* on account of the rule of the Bank of England to acknow- 
ledge no probates of wills but from thence. To this cause, among others, may 
be attributed the striking fact that the business of this Court between the three 
years ending with I7SD, and the three years ending with 1829, had been doubled. 
The number of wills proved in the latter period was about 6500, the number 
of administrations granted (that is, where no wilt had been \eh) about 3500 ; 
since then, we believe* the business has not materially increased. Of the vast 
number of persons affected, or at least interested in this business, wo see, not 
only from the crowded room before us, but from the statement given in the 
Report of the Select Committee on the Admiralty and other Courts of Doctors' 
Commons in 1833, where it appears that in one year (I8'29) the number of 
■earchea amounted to nearly 30,000. In the same year extracts were taken from 
irills in 6414 cases. Should any of our readers wonder how this latter estimate 
id obtained, or why it should be necessary to employ the office clerks in so many 
* £itc«tit in tbe DiwMc of Losuloa, where the unuunt it IfH. 

B 3 i 


instances, if that bo the explanation given, let him amuse himself by stepping 
into the office, and call for one of the great treasures of the place — nay, the 
greatest — Shakspcre's will. As he gazes with reverential eyes on the writing 
that bequeathed the poet's property to his offspring, traced by the same fingers 
that from boyhood upwards had seldom touched paper but to bequeath wealth 
beyond all price to posterity, — as he pauses over even the most indifferent words, 
hoping to find some latent meaning, or turns with a feeling of heartfelt congra- 
tulation to the passage respecting Shaksperc*s wife, till of late so inexplicable, if 
not painful — now, through the recent discovery, so clear and satisfactory* — he will 
very liVcly feel an inclination to copy some remarkable phrase or sentence. But 
as he unwittingly takes out a pencil for that purpose, in the very sight of one 
of the officers passing at the time, who shall paint the horror that overspreads 
the countenance of the latter .' A pencil in the hands of a stranger in the 
Prerogative Court !~^it is well for the offender that Prerogative has grown com- 
paratively mild and amiable of late centuries, or at least that its claws have been 
very closely pared, which comes to the same thing, for else there is no saying 
what might not be the consequence. In sober truth, there is something very 
ludicrous in the excessive jealousy shown in this matter. Sir W. Betham com- 
plained that they would not. even for genealogical purposes, allow a person to 
make a memorandum or list of wills from the index, much less from the office 
copies of wills; and, in consequence, one naturally wonders how much of this is 
proper and necessary for the safety of the documents, to prevent their being 
tampered with, and how much of it is produced by the contemplation of the 
profits made from the enforced employment of those busy gentlemen in the 
boxes. In other points the management of the office is admirable. Wills, of 
whatever date, are always to be found at half an hour's notice — generally a very 
few minutes suflice. They are kept (those only excepted which have come in 
recently, and have not passed through the preliminary processes of engrossing, 
registering, and calendaring,) in a fire-proof room called the Strong Room. 
The original wills begin with the date of 14S3, the copies from 1383. The latter 
are on parchment, strongly bound with brass clasps, and so numerous as to fill 
with dingy-looking volumes every nook and corner of the public room, and also 
partially to occupy a room above stairs. We must add to this notice of the 
Office, that in country cases, when it is inconvenient for parties to come to 
London to be sworn, commissions are issued. The number of such commissions 
issued in one year (1832) was 4580, besides 300 special commissions for par- 
ticular cases, such as of limited administrations, special probates of trust pro- 
perty, and the wills of married women. 

But what, it may be and no doubt often is asked, is the meaning of the con- 
nection between the Church and wills, — the Archbishop of Canterbury and the 
goodly estate left by the retired cheesemonger who died last week ? The answer 
is a somewhat startling one. Dr. NichoU, in hia recent speech in the House of 
Commons, referring to the testamentary causes, says, *' These came under such 
jurisdiction at a period when the bishops and other clergy claimed the property 
of intestates to be applied to pious uses, without even being required to pay 
their debta. In the course of time this claim had been considerably limited, and 
* See ' Piotoriftl Sbakiptre;' note on PortMript to * TwtUth Nigbt.' 



the clergy were obliged to pay the debts of the intestate out of his property 
before any of it could be applied to piouB uses. Subsequent restrictions had, 
howei-er, required that the property of the intestate should be given to his widow 
and children; and afterwards it was enacted, that where such relations did not 
exist, the property should go to the next of kin, and, failing these, should go to 
the Crown.'' So that, insttad of being surprised that so much of our property 
should pass into the jurisdiction of the Church, we have reason rather to be 
thankful in many cases that it ever comes out again. As the ecclesiastical juris- 
diction in testamentary causes is not an isolated feature of Doctors' Commons, 
but, on the contrary, both in its origin and history, intimately connected with the 
other Courts we are about to mention, and as so much of that jurisdiction is at 
this very moment passing away by the consent of the heads of the Church itself, 
wc must enter a Uttic more closely into the matter. All readers of history are 
familiar with the endeavours made by the priesthood in every country of Europe, 
after the complete establishment of Christianity, to obtain authority in temporal 
as well as in spiritual affairs ; endeavours which were nowhere more charac- 
terised by greater pertinacity and boldness than in England, because nowhere 
more energetically resisted ; and, though defeated in their grand object of re- 
ducing our sovereigns to a state of vassalage to the Pope, even if they could not 
get the sovereign power itself vested in ecclesiastics, as they did in some of the 
states of the great German confederation, yet, short of that, their influence could 
hardly have been much greater than it was in this country for some centuries. 
And it could not well be otherwise. Being the only large class of persons that 
could be deemed an instructed one, during the middle ages, power naturally 
flowed into their hands, and though used no doubt in the main more for the 
bene6t of the people than it could have been if vested elsewhere, was, it is 
equally doubtless, perverted to their owa selOsh gratifications. Hence their 
enormous wealth, hence their countless privileges, by which they were enabled 
to avoid all the duties of citizenship, and obtain a thousand advantages which 
Juat citizenship cannot bestow ; hence their castles and hosts of retainers ; hence 
their fuU-blown pride and ambition. But the most striking evidence of their 
power, and, we must add, of their comparative fitness for power, is the existence 
among us to this hour of the canon law, which is simply a collection of the ordi* 
Dances, decrees, decretal epistles, and bulls issued by the Popes or the councils 
of the Roman Catholic Church, and the general tendency of which was to esta- 
blish the supremacy of the spiritual over the merely temporal authority. A 
new system of law thus sprung up by the side of the Civil or Roman law, 
with which it became gradually connected. The earliest English Ecclesiastical 
Courts appear to have been established by the Conqueror WiUiam, and at the 
same time the Bishops were forbidden thenceforth to sit, as they had been ac- 
customed, in the civil courts of the country, with laymen. By the time of Henry 
II. we read of the Courts of the Archbishop, Bishop, and Archdeacon. It waa 
a critical period in the history of the Church. The struggle for supremacy 
began in the reign of William, and was for a great length of time hotly con- 
tinued. To a certain extent the Ecclesiastics were successful. They esta- 
blished the partial authority of the canon law in their own courts, and 
ihey managed to introduce the civil law into the ordinary tribunals. But 
that was all. As regards their chief object, spiritual supremacy, they t;ale4 


Their canon law was received, it is true, and became an important part of 
English jurisprudence, but received in the spirit of a *' people ** who had " taken 
it at their free liberty, by their own consent to be used among them, and not as 
laws of any foreign prince, potentate, or prelate/'* and who, therefore, took consi- 
derable liberties with it in so doing. Not only, for example, have the kings and 
barons of our earlier history steadily opposed all its doctrines of non-resistance 
and passive obedience* but the most eminent lawyers at all times exhibited so little 
deference for its authority, that it gradually sank, with the civil law, into the 
position described by Blackstone, who observes, ''that all the strength that cither 
the papal or imperial taws have obtained in this realm, is only because they have 
been admitted and received by immemorial usage and custom, in some particular 
cases, and some particular courts ; and then they form a branch of the Uges rion 
xcriptee (unwritten laws), or customary laws; or else because they are, in some 
other eases, introduced by consent of parliament, and then they owe their vali- 
dity to the leges scriptct, or statute law." To the former class essentially belong 
the courts of Doctors' Commons, and all the numerous minor ecclesiastical courts 
through the country — which are at once the chief remains of the civil and 
canon laws among us, and of the mighty temporal power formerly exercised by 
the church. 

The chief courts of Doctors' Commons are — the Court of Arches, which is the 
supreme ecclesiastical court of the whole province; the Prerogative Court, where 
all contentions arising out of testamentary causes are tried ; the Consistory Court 
of the Bishop of London, which only differs from the other consistory courts 
throughout the country in its importance as including the metropolis in its 
sphere of operations ; and the Court of Admiralty, which seems, at the first 
glance, oddly enough situated among such neighbours. All these hold 
their sittings in the Common Hall of the College, towards which we now direct 
our steps. We have not far to go. Some fifty yards or so up the street, we 
pass through an unpretending-looking gateway, and find ourselves in a square, 
surrounded on three sides with good old handsome houses, each door bearing the 
name of * Dr. * — some one, names mostly familiar to the public in connection 
with the reports of trials in Doctors' Commons; whilst in front is the entrance 
to the Hall, which projects into the square from the left, forming a portion of 
its fourth side. Without any architectural pretension, this is a handsome and 
exceedingly comfortable court. The dark polished wainscot reaching so high up 
the walls, whilst above are the richly-emblazoned coats of arms of all the Doctors 
for a century or two past ; the fire burning ao cheerily, this winter's day, in the stove 
in the centre; the picturesque dresses of the unengaged advocates in their scarlet 
and ermine, and of the proctors in their ermine and black, lounging about it; 
the peculiar arrangement of the business part of the Court, with its raised gal- 
leries on each side, for the opposing advocates ; the absence of prisoner's dock 
or jury-box — nay, even of a public, of which we do not see a solitary rej>rc- 
scntativc — altogether impress the stranger with a sense of agreeable novelty, 
Aa to the business going on, it ia a sitting of the Court of Arches; and the 
cause one of the least interesting of the subjects that come before this Court, 
which includo, as in Chaucer's time, cases — 

K * Prmmble lo Statute t^t Ilm. VIII. 




'■jf^ i 

' Of defamation, and avoulcric, 
Of church reves, and of IcstanienU, 
Of conlracls, anil lack of sacraments. 
Of usurc and simony also:" 

besides those of sacrilege, blasphemy, aposlacy from Christianity, adultery, 
partial or entire divorce, incest, solicitations of chastity, and a variety of others 
connected chiefly with the discipline of tho Church, its buildings, and its 
officers: a formidable list of offences, when the Church was strong enough to 
enforce its powers, and, in case of conviction, to punish offenders with the 
infliction of fines and penances, or the more awful doom of cxconimunicatiun. 
AlnM>st the only criminal cases now brought before the ecclesiastical cotirts 
throughout England arc those for defamation, generally of female character, and 
for brawling and smiting in churches, or places attached, as vestries. Penance for 
defamation, though almost banished from the supreme courts here, is still 
in practice, it appears, in the country. In connection with the dioceses of 
Exeter, Salisbury, and Norwich we read, in the Report of the Kcclesiastical 
Commissioners on the Ecclesiastical Courts, in J832 (the Keport on which the 
measures now pending arc based) of cases of this kind; — but the ridicule and ex- 
citement caused by the appearance, in open church, of offenders in their white 
sheets, has caused tho penance to be privately performed. The general method 
teems to be that described by Mr. John Kitson, the "Joint Principal Re- 
gistrar '* of Norwich : the dcfamcr makes retractation in church, " in the presence 
of the complainant and six or eight of her friends.** The nature of the business 
in the Court of Arches may be best shown by the brief summary given in the 
BcpoTt, for three years— 1837, 1828, and 18:29. There were twenty-one itiffltrtm9< 



Tiial causes : one of defamation, fbur of brawling, five church-smiting, one church- 
rate, one legacy, one tithes, four correction — total, thirty -eight ; of these, seven- 
teen were appeals from other courts and twenty-one original suits. The last 
arise from the Court having original jurisdiction in certain cases, and assuming it 
in others, at the request of the inferior courts. The great majority of cases, it 
will be seen, are matrimonial. Dr. NichoU " conceived that the jurisdiction in 
matrimonial contracts was given to ecclesiastical courts partly in consequence of 
the fact that marriage, at that period, was regarded as a sacrament, and partly 
because the marriage law was chiefly founded on the canon law.*' The peculiar 
mode of procedure ia this Court (and it is the same in the others) demands some 
notice. At the commencement of a suit a proctor is employed, who obtains a 
citation, calling upon the party, whether defendant or offetidcr, to appear. This 
citation is served by one whom Chaucer has made an old acquaintance, though he 
now appears under a new name. He is no longer the Sumpnour, but the Appa- 
ritor. And we may pause a moment to observe that this change is but the 
slightest of the many this character has undergone. In the very commonplace 
but, no doubt, respectable person, who now executes the high behests of the 
Church, who would look for the successor of him whose portrait is given in 
Chaucer's matchless collection ? — 

"A Sumpnour was there with us in that place, 
I That had a fire-red cherubiiines face; 

^^^1 • a • • • 

^^B With scalled * browes black, and piiled t beftrH, 

^^H Of hiB vis&ge children were sore afeard. 

^^B There n* as quicksilver, liuirge, ne briinsLune, 

^^H Boras, ceruse, ne oil of tartar none, 

^^H Ne olntemcnt that woulde cleaiiee ar bite. 

^^M That him might helpen of his whelkest white, 

^^B Ne of the knobbes sitting on bis cheeks. 

^^B Well lov'd be garlic, onions, and leeks ; 

^^B And for to drink strong wine as red as blood. 

^^T Then would he speak, and cry as he were wood. J 

^^B And when that he well drunken had the wine, 

^^B Then would he spcakcn no word but Latfne, 

^^B A fewe termes could he, two or three 

BI^P That he had learned out of some decree." 

Alas ! the sources of all these generous tastes, good living, and of so much 
personal beauty, are gone; he is no longer allowed to seek out, as of old, cases 
for punishment, with the agreeable alternative of showing a world of kindly feel- 
ing and mercy, when melted into compassion by — the proper reasons. From 
being, as he was, the dread and curse of the community, he has, it must be owned, 
sunk into melancholy insignificance. Well, the citation served, and the party 
appearing (if not, he is declared in contempt, which is, even now, a really serious 
piece of business), a war of allegations and counter allegations commences; then 
witnesses are examined, each alone by the examiner, on oath, on a set of ques- 
tions as well calculated as so vicious a system can admit for the eliciting of the 
truth ; and then the opposing advocates finally appear in Court, each armed 
with his formidable mass of papers, from which he lays the case before the 
Court, selecting such evidence as he pleases. Of course his sins, whether of 

• Scullfd — scurfy. + PiiUii — l«l<t, or touily. 

^^ X WhdkM I probfrblj 9ora9 corrupt huiDour breaking out on the &ce. ( IToorf— m«L 





oniis8ioti or commiftsion, are pointed out by the advocate in the gallery oppo- 
■ite, and thus the judge, who is busy making notes the whole time, obtains as 
complete a view of the case as is possible where the witnesses do not appear in 
Court to give their evidence publicly, when there may be those present who 
could detect any falsehood, and where they arc free from the grand test of all 
truth — cross-examination. Yet there should be something good in this mode 
of examining witnesses, when we find the Bank solicitor, Mr. J. W. Frcshfield, 
making the following statement to the commissioners: — 

•* My opinion is. that vivd voce examination is the very worst method ; that the 
examination in the Court of Chancery [where distinct but unalterable question! 
are put] is defective in an inferior degree ; and that the examination in the 
Ecclesiastical Court is the most perfect: speaking of my own experience upon 
that subject. I think that in vied voce examination it is not the question 
what is the truth, but how much of the truth shall be allowed to be elicited: it 
is a question who is to be the examiner, and what will be the state of the nerves 
of the individual who is to be examined." He adds, that whilst a violent man 
with good nerve often becomes a partisan from the personal and annoying cha- 
racter of his examination, and says more than he knows — timid men, on the con- 
trary, either give their evidence very insufficiently, or stay away altogether. 
Being asked whether he has ever known an instance of an honest witness being 
kept back from examination in the prudent management of a cause, he replied 
•* Many instances ; I have known it done at considerable peril. I have had to 
tender, or not to tender, in my own discretion, men of the highest honour, upon 
whose veracity I would pledge my life ; but have decided against their produc- 
tion, on account of the anxiety I have felt as to what might be the effect of 
placing them in the witness-box"* 

On the other hand, another highly respectable solicitor, Mr. T. Hamilton, says 
be knows of a case in which " the plaintiff lost a valuable property from nothing 
in the world else but because the interrogatories were previously formed; the 
material witness was the solicitor to the defendant, and it was impossible to get 
out the whole facts on cross-interrogatories so prepared." f The truth lies, it is 
tolerably evident, between the two: to our mind there can be no question of the 
value, nay, the indispcnsableness of cross-examination in courts of justice ; the 
problem, therefore, to solve is, how the rude, frequently brutal conduct of counsel 
ss to be restrained, and a witness's feelings and character spared the outrages too 
frequently committed on both without the slightest provocation, with no other 
object indeed than a reckless determination to misrepresent or to lessen the value 
of his evidence, simply because it is unfavourable. Mr. FreshGcld's statement at 
all events demands consideration, and, if possible, remedy. Surely the Judges 
themselves ought to have the power to repress all that tends to the obstruction 
of justice, even though it be done on the plea of the advancement of justice ; and 
might lay down a few simple^ well-considered rules fur counsel, and enforce their 

With the growth of the canon law there grew up also in connection with it 
a race of judges, commentators, and practitioners, at tirst distinct from the analo- 
gous body of persons belonging to the ci\'il law, but gradually becoming even 
more closely connected with them than the laws themselves, until at last there 
* Bcpott m Kcclv. Cooitt, p. 3S. f ll'itl. p. 4S. 



remained^ in England at least, but one body, tlie existing Doctors of Civil 
Law, who alone have the right of practising as advocates of Doctors' Commons. 
The period of the junction of the students in both laws seems to be the Re- 
formation i before that event degrees were as common in the canon as in the 
civillaw, many persona indeed talcing both ; but in the 27th of Henry VIII. 
that monarch prohibited the University of Cambridge, and probably of Oxford 
also, from having lectures or granting degrees in the canon law. The practice 
of the supreme Ecclesiastical Courts must, therefore, have necessarily fallen into 
the hands of the doctors of civil law. The founder of what we now call Doctors' 
Commons was, according to Maitland, '* Dr. Henry Harvey, doctor of the civil 
and canon law, and master of Trinity Hall in Cambridge, a prebendary of Ely, 
and dean (or judge) of the Arches ; a reverend, learned, and good man," who 
purchased a house here for the doctors to live in, in cominon together, hence the 
name. This house was burnt down in the Great fire, and the present building 
erected on the site by the members. The doctors, we may observe, still dine 
together in a room adjoining the Court, on every court day. The admission of 
doctors to practice as advocates is a stately \tiecc of ceremony, tlic new member 
being led up the Court by two senior advocates, with the mace borne in front> 
and there being much low bowing and reading of Latin speeches. The number 
of advocates at present, we believe, is twenty-six; the diflerence in the dress 
that wc perceive among them marks them respectively as Cambridge and Oxford 
men. The proctors, who are in effect the solicitors of Doctors' Commons, are 
also admitted with ceremonials, and have to exhibit their attainments in a similar 
manner. Every pains are taken to ensure their respectability. When articled, 
at or after the age of fourteen, they must present a certificate from the school- 
master as to their progress in classical learning ; they are then articled for seven 
years, and a considerable fee is given to the proctors, and as only the senior 
proctors are allowed to take such clerks, and to have but two at the same time, 
a considerable amount of experience and knowledge of the laws and customs of 
Doctors* Commons Is ensured. Finally, they can only be admitted to practise as 
proctors by presenting a certificate signed by three advocates and three proctors, 
stating their fitness. Vet, with all this precaution, there appears to be some- 
thing more than suspicion on the minds of some of the respectable witnesses 
examined by the commissioners, that there are those among them who — to alter 
an old phrase — go the way of all lawyers. 

One of the legal beauties of the Ecclesiastical Courts' system is that of appeal; 
a system certainly unique for the admirable skill with which it cherishes the 
pettiest and weakest cases till thoy grow into importance and respectability, 
raising them gradually, a step at a time, till the litigating combatants, instead of 
having their own little town or village coterie for spectators, look around with 
amazement at their own grandeur, from the elevation of a supreme metropolitan 
court. Mark the advancing stages which a case may have to, and often docs, 
pass through. First, there are spread through the country two or three hundred 
minor courts, essentially the same in all cases, though bearing a variety of appel- 
lations, as peculiars of various descriptions, royal courts, archi-episcopal, episcopal, 
decanal, sub-decanal, prebcndal, rectorial, vicarial, and a few manorial courta 
having similar jurisdiction. This is tlie base of the edifice, and in one of these 
0c will suppose a case arises, is heard, and decided, and, bcin^ unsatisfactory to 







one of the parties^ is appealed against This takcB us to the first step upwards — 
the courts of the archdeacons and others in every diocese, where the caac is again 
heard, decided, and appealed against. Of course poor men who cannot afford to 
L go on appealing against what they may believe to be an unjust decision, may stop 
' where Ihey please. Far is it, we are sure, from the minds of all parLica con- 
cerned to wish any poor man to involve himself in expenses that — he cannot pay. 
Next we ascend to the Consistorial Courts, one in each diocese, where the whole 
process of hearing, deciding, and appealing from, proceeds with delightful regu- 
larity and steadiness of purpose. The third step is the Chancellor's Court ;-^ 
the fourth the metropolitan, say the Court of Arches, and here at least one would 
suppose there would be a final pause. By no means, if the losing party have 
still hopes of a different decision, or hopes of his adversarj^s purse or patience 
failing. An appeal still lies from the Court of Arches to the Privy Council 
at present, formerly to the Court of Delegates at Doctors' Commons, now abo- 
lished. That we may not be supposed to have exaggerated — here arc two illus- 
trations: "There was a case," says Dr. NichoUs, " in which the cause had 
originally commenced in the Archdeacon's Court at Totness, and thence there 
had been an appeal to the Court at Exeter, thence to the Arches, and thence to 
the Delegates; afYer all, the question at issue having been simply, which of two 
Lpersons had the right of hanging his hat on a particular peg." The other is of 
rH i&dder cast, and calculated to arouse a just indignation. Our authority is Mr. 
S. W. Sweet,* who states — " In one mstance, many years since, a suit wasinsti- 
Ltuted, which I thought produced a great deal of inconvenience and distress : it 
'was the case of a person of the name of Kussell, whose wife was supposed to have 
had her character impugned at Yarmonth by a Mr. Bentham. He had ntf 
Ljcmedy at law for the attack upon the lady's character, and a suit for defamation' 
rwaa instituted in the Commons. It was supposed the suit would be attended 
with very little expense, but I believe iu the end it greatly contributed to ruin 
ihe parly who instituted it; I think he said his proctor*s bill would he 700li , 
It went through several courts, and ultimately, I believe [according the decision 
or agreement] each party paid his own costs." It appears from the oridencc 
Lnbsequently given by the proctor, that he vcrj* humanely declined pressing for 
payment, and never was paid ; and yet the case, through the continued anxiety 
and loss of time incurred for six or seven years (for the suit lasted that time), 
mainly contributed, it appears, to the party's ruin. 

Abuses of this kind, with a host of others, it is the object of the bill before 
Parliament, introduced by Dr. Nicholl, to swceiJ away ; and a most gratifying 
evidence of the change that has come over the episcopal spirit is to be found in 
the factj that, effectually as it accomplishes these purposes, great as the sacrifice 
thereby made by some of the heads of the Church (one sinecure place, in the 
kift of the Archbishop of Canterbury, that is to be abolished, is worth 9000/. a 
Krear), it is to the Ecclesiastical Commissioners of 183*2, among whom were the 
^id Archbishop and six Bishojts, that we owe the excellent measure of reform we 
are aI>out to describe. But we must first uotice, that, in addition to the evils of j 
a multiplicity of appeals, and those arising from the variety of cases before men- 
tioned in which the Church has temporal jurisdiction, and is in consequence fre 
qucntly made the instrument of petty malice and bad feeling, there is one evil 

^ • Report oa Bcclw, Court*, p. 17. 



of still g^reater magnitade than eitlicr : — owing to the number of minor courts in 
which a will may be proved, it is almost impossible to know where to look for 
any but a very recent one. And now for the remedy. Dr. Nicholl proposes to 
divide the exclusively spiritual matters — such as the correction of clerks, and 
Church discipline generally — from those which are exclusively temporal, or of a 
mixed nature ; the former to be left to the Bishops in their diocesan courts (all 
minor courts being abolished), with appeals, first to the Archbishop, and subse- 
quently to the Privy Council, — thus *' recognising, even in ecclesiastical matters^ 
the principle, that over all causes .... her Majesty's was, in these her dominions, 
supreme authority ;" and the latter to be handed over to a new court, to be called 
her Majesty's Court of Arches, with a Judge called, as at present, the Dean of 
the Arches, but appointed by the Queen, like the other Judges, instead of by the 
Archbishop of Canterbury. The advocates and proctors will of course practise 
in such new Court, as they do now in the old. The Court is to have no power 
to pronounce spiritual censures, consequently all those very peculiar causes 
before enumerated will be abolished, except such as may still be commenced 
in this Court, and in it only, with the object of asserting or of ascertaining a 
civil right Tithe, and all matters pertaining thereto, are transferred to the 
jurisdiction of the general Courts of Law at Westminster. Lastly, the new Court 
will have the sole jurisdiction over all testamentary causes throughout the 
country, both as a court of trial for causes arising out of such matters, and as a 
Court of Registry for the entire kingdom, as all wills are to be proved in it, all 
administrations granted by it. This most important and valuable reform is en- 
hanced by the care with which the inconveniences that might have attached to 
such a system have been anticipated and prevented. The present registry in 
every diocese is to be henceforth a branch registry of the Court of Arches, where 
all wills of persons dying possessed of personal property below 300/. may be 
proved, to save the expense and inconvenience attending journeys to London ; 
and then the whole system is perfected by the cross transmission of all copies of 
wills proved — on the one hand, from each registry to the Court of Arches; on 
the other, from the Court of Arches (of wills below 300/.) to each registry: so 
that at the branches there will be a complete registry for small wills, and at the 
chief Court for wills of every class. The country proctors are probably the only 
persons injured by the measure, and that injury is lessened by the opening of 
the new London Court to such of them as may think proper to practise there for 
the future. In the procedure of this Court great improvements are to be intro- 
duced : viva voce evidence may be received in Court, at the discretion of the Judge ; 
and, io certain cases, there may be a trial by jury. Such is a brief outline of 
the measure now before Parliament. 

There is one other Court of Doctors' Commons yet to be mentioned — the High 
Court of Admiralty. How this came to be joined to the Ecclesiastical Courts 
we do not find anywhere stated, but it arose most probably from the circumstances 
before pointed out — the connection between the civil and canon laws : as the 
Arches and other Courts have been chiefly governed by the one, so has the 
Admiralty by the other. Its jurisdiction is divided into two parts — that of the 
Instance Court, and that of the Prize Court. The Prize Court evidently appliee 
but to a state of war, when all naval captures pass through it. Its " end," sa)-» 
Lord Mansfield, in one of his tersest passages, " is to suspend the property till 





condemnattoD ; to ptmiah every sort of misbehaviour in the captors; to restore 
instantly, if, upon the most summary examination, there does not appear suffi- 
cient ground ; to condemn finally, if the goods really are prize> against everybody, 
giving everybody a fair opportunity of being heard."* The Instance Court has 
a criminal and civil jurisdiction. To the former belong piracy, and other indict- 
able offences committed on the high seas, which are now tried at the Old Bailey ; 
to the latter, all the cases which form the ordinary business of the Court, such aa 
suits arising from ships running foul of each other, disputes about seamen's 
wages, bottomry, and salvage — that is, the aliowance due to those who have saved 
or recovered ships, or property in ships, from maritime dangers. The position 
of the Judge of the Admiralty is a peculiar one : in peace having little to do — in 
war, all but overwhelmed : it is also in the highest degree onerous. Peace or 
war may continually depend upon hia decisions in matters where foreign nations 
are concerned; for instance, "in cases of embargoes, and the provisional de- 
tention of vessels : in such cases an incautious decision might involve the country 
in war."f Nay, at the present moment that very question ia in agitation (and 
may again come before the Court through some sudden, possibly accidental, cir* 
cnmstance). which formed so important a feature in the last war with America — 
the right of search; for, unfortunately. Sir John NichoU's remark, that "the 
decisions of the great mind (Lord Stoweirs) at the head of the Admiralty Court 
at that time have pretty much settled these questions to the satisfaction of the 
whole world, "J appears just now to be anything but correct. Yet ifany one mind 
in such a position could have settled that or any still weightier question, it would 
have been the admirable Judge referred to, who sat in this Court through the 
most eventful period of the last great war, in the course of which he had to 
deal with almost every question of international law ; but to him might be ap- 
I plied Shakspcre's well-known passage on Henry V. ; — 

^B "Turn him to any cause of ixiUcy, 

^^^^B The Gordian koDt of it he will unloose, 

^^^^H Familiar as bis garter :" 

^M And the proof of it is the statement made by Sir Herbert Jenncr, and other dis- 
^H tinguished persons, in the highest degree calculated to form a correct opinion, 
^H that Lord Stoweirs decisions at that period have since formed a code of inter- 
na national law, almost universally recognised. The amount of his labours was no 
^1 less remarkable than its character. In one year (18C6) he pronounced 2206 
^M decrees. It can be hardly expected that to such praise there should be anything 
^M remarkable to add, and yet there is. Lord Stowell's style is a study not alone for 
I his legal brethren of all classes, many of whom, it must be acknowledged, sadly 

need such a proof of the possibility of being at once learned and intelligible, but 
for all who can enjoy genuine and racy English. Looking over Haggart's reports 
of his decisions, we were struck by the case he gives of the ship ' Minerva ;* and 
though many might be found better calculated to illustrate the qualities of Lord 
Stowell'a matter and manner, it is not without value in those points, as well as 
being in itself interesting. Sailors are " the favourites of the law,** says Lord 

• Dmigtu'i RfporU, p. 572. 
( Sir Herbert Jmma\ Evitlaicr. Rrport on Adminltr Cguxto, 1833, p. 3^ 
t Report, 1833, p. 30. 



Stowcll, in the judg:raent we arc about to quote, " on account of their imbecility, 
and placed particularly under its protection:' the judgment in the • Minerva' 
suit ie a practical exemplification of this rule. It appears " the crew of the ' Mi- 
nerva* had been engaged on a contract to go from London to New South Wales, 
and India, or elsewhere^ and to return to a port in Europe." The words marked in 
Italics were said by the crew to have been subsequently added, who, in consequence, 
eventually left the vessel, and on their return were refused the wages they conceived 
themselves entitled to. The rest of their curious history Lord Stowell himself 
relates:^" Now upon this balance of evidence, as I have intimated, I strongly 
incline to hold, that these words did not compose any part of the text of the ori- 
ginal contract ; but if they did, I have no hesitation in asserting, that they are 
not to be taken in that indefinite latitude in which they are expressed : they are 
no description of a voyage; they are an unlimited description of the navigable 
globe; and are not to be admitted as a universal alibi for the whole world, 
including the most remote and even pestilential shores, indefinite otherwise both 
in space and time : they must receive a reasonable construction — a construction 
which I readily admit must be, to a certain extent, conformable to the necessities 
of commerce; for I hope that few men's minds are more remote than mine from 
a wish to encourage any wayward opposition in seamen to those necessities, or to 
the fair and indispensable indulgence which such necessities require ; for no class 
of men is more interested in supporting the maritime commerce of the country 
than these persons themselves : but the entire disadvantage must not be thrown 

upon them; the owners must make their sacrifices as well as the mariners 

I come now to the evidence of other material facts. On landing the cargo at 
Port Jackson, the crew, as I have already observed, expressed their extreme 
disappointment at the change made in their destination [which they had just 
learned], in breach of the articles which they had subscribed. They are threat-* 
cned by the Captain, who is certainly a person of lofty prerogative notions, who 
claims the right to carry them, and says he can and will carry them, wherever 
he pleases, even to hell itself, a very favourite place of consignment in his judg- 
ment. The onl)' choice presented to these men was between a prison and a con- 
tinuance in the ship ; for such is the law and justice of that country, that it seems 
no other option is allowed to a seaman : whether he quit his ship for a just cause 
or none at all — that is never subject of inquiry. In the choice of things, they 
elect the ship, reserving to themselves, as they had an undoubted right to do, 
their demand for legal redress in the justice of their country, for such it appears 
was the general theme of conversation amongst them. They remained on board, 
performing their duty ; and even if this had not been a compelled preference, it 
would not have deprived thorn of that resort. The articles were violated and 
remained so, though they elected, under all circumstances, to remain in the ship 
under the forced deviation. A voyage was commenced upon, a course of experi- 
ments to procure a cargo. From Port Jackson they proceedeil in search of a 
cargo to New Zealand, where not a man ventured to land for fear oi being made 
a meal's meat of by the cannibal inhabitants, as they were represented to be. 
From hence they take an enormous flight to Valparaiso, in the South Seas, where 
they take on board what the Master will not allow to be a cargo, but only part of a 
cargo ; and the ship then proceed^ to Lima, where nothing is done, and thence 





"ft fresh flight to Otahcitc, at neither of which places does this voyage of experi- 
ment afford any articles of cargo. From this last place the Master bends his 
course back to Sidney Cove, and aflcr selling the partial cargo taken in at Val- 
"paraiso, and receiving payment for the same, they then procured a cargo, which 
they carried to Calcutta, fur which place they ought to have proceeded origi* 
nally. They landed the cargo, and were occupied in taking on board a cargo 
for England, the men all this time, with all apparent diligence and alacrity, dis- 
charging their duly. On two Sundays, days usually of repose and indulgence, 
they were employed ; yet no necessity is shown for denying the usual remission 
of labour. It is also stated, that on the third Sunday they had hoped to obtain 
the usual indulgence. On that morning, however, at a very early hour, a great 
quantity of hides having been brought to the ship, they set to work at five 
o'clock in the morning, to obtain the indulgence of going on shore in the after- 
noon, and finished their stowage of hides by one o'clock, and then sat down to 
dinner in that warm climate, solacing themselves with the prospect of obtaining 
the long-expected indulgence of going on shore ; but instead, they were in- 
formed that they must go to work in the afternoon of the same day wherein they 
had worked so many hours, to stuw the hides more completely, which they had 
put into the hold with so much labour during six hours of the morning. They 
requested the indulgence which they had promised themselves, upon the faith 
of the usual practice and of their meritorious exertions in the morning, and ap- 
plied to the Captain personally and respectfuUy for that purpose; but received 
the usual answer of a refusal, expressed in the usual terms of a reference to the 
Iftvourite place of consignment to which I have alluded. Upon this refusal of 
the Captain, who himself immediately afterwards proceeded to the shore, they 

followed his example In the evening they stated their case to the Town 

Serjeant, including the great original grievance, of an entire defeazancc of the 
■hip's articles by the compelled ramble to New Zealand and the distant ports of 
the South Sea. The Magistrates issue a summons to the Captain to appear and 
answer to the complaint. After consultations both private and public with the 
Captain, the Magistrates ap])car to net upon the same principle of law as that 
which prevails at Sidney Cove — that when a seaman quits a ship, he is only to 
make his election between the ship and the House of Correction. The sailors 
unwillingly repair to their ship, but are absolutely refused admittance by order 
of the Captain, which amounts nearly to a dismissal, and they return to tht» 
shore, where they are committed by the magistrates to the House of Correction 
for 25 days ; at the end of that time they arc taken in the police boat and put 
on board the ship, when they collect their clothes and hammocks, which they 
carry ofF with them to the shore. Unfounded and unsupported charges of having 
■tolcn the ship's hammocks are dismissed by the magistrates, as is likewise ano- 
ther equally unsupported charge of having neglected to clear the hawser, a 
duty which had never "been imposed upon them. The mariners' case ends with 
their acceptance, after a month's interval, of stations on board another ship about 
to proceed for England, at nearly a double rate of wages to that which they would 
have been entitled to if they had continued on boad the ■ Minerva.* " Our space 
will not allow us to transcribe any of the kindly and philosophical remarks with 
which the judgment is Btudded, we can only give the conclusion : — " Upon 



the whole. I do with satisfaction ot* mind pronounce for the wages and the 
expenses." • 

We may ob8er\*e, in conclusion, that the name of the Court so often referred 
to, and which after declining for centuries is now in all probability about again 
to become important, ia derived from the arches below Bow Church, Cheapside, 
to which edifice they also give name. These arches and their supporting pillars 
are very interesting to the antiquary, not only from the facts already stated, 
but from their great antiquity. They are of Norman origin, and were probably 
built during the reign of the Conqueror, perhaps by himself, who, as we have 
already seen, founded the earliest Ecclesiastical Courts in this country, and must 
likely that of the Arches, as being the Archbishop's, first of all. Stow could find 
no evidence of the date of its establishment, or when it first sat at Bow Church; 
but there seems little doubt that it is coeval, or nearly so, with the ancient 
arches, and has never been removed from their vicinity till our own times. The 
Court of Arches was occasionally held here even down to the year 1825, if not 
later, in the part that now forms the vestry, the subject of the following en- 
graving. The original connection between the Church and the Court we pre- 
sume to be this; — the parish of St. Mary-le-Bow is the chief of the thirteen 
parishes in the City which are called peculiars, forming a Deanery exempt from 
the jurisdiction of the Bishop of London, and attached to that of the Archbishop 
of Canterbury. Hence also the name of the Judge — Dtan of the Arches. 



[\'«tirT(MD, fofBwtjr Court of AnbM, 81. Mbo-IvDow.] 
■ JTR^wt's Rc^wrti of Cun dctcnuiwd in lU Bigb Court gf Adminlty, vol. L |i. S47. 

[Tb0 TenpW Cbmreh tnn lli« SouUi.] 



Onb of the most curious and interesting facts in the history of the human 
mind is the peculiar mode of its progression : — its alternating rise and fall — the 
preliminary retreat before every great advance, as if to derive fresh strength 
and impetus for the spring. And whatever the path, this characteristic still pre- 
sents itself In religion, Pagan Home did not change to Christian Rome, and the 
worship of the One God, till the believers in a multitude of deities had passed 
through the worse state of practical disbelief in any : in philosophy or morality, 
the Divine voice thai taught the essence of both, in the words *' Love one 
another/' was first heard, and received into mcn*s hearts, at a time when the 
Grecian and Roman conquerors, by their vast organized systems of slaughter, 
devastation, and pillage, had well nigh banished the very ideas of humanity and 
justice from the world, and made philosophy a by-word of scorn : in science 
literature, and art — the great ones of antiquity found fitting successors in such 
men as (to refer only to our own country) Roger Bacon and Chaucer —the artists 
of their temples in the artists of our early ecclesixstical churches, but what a 

YOL. T. 



mighty and almost unfathomable gTilf divided them — ^thc dark ages, as we call 
a long period — centuries in which the light was certainly not that of noon-day. 
Yet, with all this, who doubts that progression is Natare^a law — that we have 
progressed — that we shall continue so to do, however undulating or indirect the 
road? To apply these remarVs to the subject that suggested them: — it may be 
observed, then, that Gothic architecture has had, for the last three or four centu- 
ries, a dark ago of its own, from which it is now emerging ; and that there needs 
only some decided impulse to be given to the public taste, in order not simply 
to restore what has been, but, iu accordance with the law we have referred to. 
probably to enable us to make a still farther advance. Such an impulse, it is S 
not unlikely, will be given by the restoration of the Temple Church. ™ 

And why the Temple in particular? it may be asked: the grand combina- 
tions of nave and aisles, choir and transepts, chapels and porches, lofty spires fl 
nnd mighty towers, into one magnificent whole, are already familiar to us in 
connection with our cathedrals: has the Temple Church anything to ofiTer at onco 
superior to these, and new ? Certainly not : tlic answer is, that, for the first 
time, wc see in it what a Gothic building really was — a structure as prc-emi* 
ncnt for its rich harmonics of colour as for its beauty uf architectural detail and 
grandeur of architectural design. Let those who have not seen the Temple 
think what such decorations must have been in the hands of the authors of our 
cathedrals to be worthy of both, and they will scarcely overrate the value of what i 
the Benchers of the Temple have just restored to us, with a truly princely fl 

The view wc have given of the exterior renders description unnecessary ; we 
will therefore only remark how strikingly accordant is its character with the cha- 
racter of its founders ; who, accustomed to the union ol' fortress and church in the 
East, where it was most necessary that they should be at all times prepared to 
defend themselves from the Saracens, seem to have been unable or unwilling to 
lose the same associations, even when at home among their own Christian coun- 
trymen. Perhaps, too, there may have been a little pride in the matter: they 
were not disinclined to remind those countrymen of what they had done, and 
were, at the period of the erection, still doing for the cause of Christ, as they 
deemed it. To examine the eastern front, the only front the church jkisscsscs, 
the spectator must pass round the pile of buildings that is seen in our en- 
graving thrusting itself upon the oblong portion and obstructing the view. 
Before we leave the exterior, we must notice the differences of style which ^ 
prevail in the Rotunda and the Chancel — differences which are connected with a f 
feature of the Temple Church that makes it one of the most interesting and 
valuable structures we possess, apart from any other attractions. "No building ^ 
in existence," says Mr. Cottingham, " so completely develops the gradual and | 
delicate advance of the pointed style over the Norman as this church, being 
commenced in the latter, and finished in the highest perfection of the former :" 
already, in this exterior, and more particularly in the comparative lightnesa of 
those Norman windows, we can trace one of the stages of the advance. We now U 
descend the steps of the porch, that strange, low, shut-in corner which forms the 
principal entrance— grown, however, larger-looking of late; and the deeply 
recessed, broad, semicircular Norman doorway is before ns^ with its foliated 




CApitaU anJ other carved ornaments, exhibiting^ another stage in the architcc 
tural progT-esa. Most elaborately rich and beautiful it is, too, with its numerous 
pillars below, and circular wreaths above, its sculptured heads and half figures, 
where, mingled together, we see kings and queens, and pious monks at prayer- II 
is often thouj^ht, by those Wet qualified to appreciate the spirit in which our ecclesi- 
astical artists worked, that in all they did there was a higher object than that ot 
merely ftilfiUing the ordinary requisitions of art. even though that were so admira- 
bly accomplished. What, for instance, can be finer than the entrance through this 
low and comparatively dark porch into the light and airy upward sweep of the 
Rotunda, with the vista opening beyond through the chancel? How it in 
every way enhances them, and more particularly in size, the precise feature 
which it was most desirable to enhance.* But was this all? Had not the 
architect a still greater design in view when he built this lowly porch? did he 
not desire to suggest that lowliness of spirit with which man should enter the 
house of his Maker— was it not an emphatic direction to the haughty and stiff- 
necked, the ambitious and the powerful, that they were all as nothing here — 
that they must ^toop in spirit as they passed through this gateway ? Above all, 
was it not to remind them to whom all the splendour beyond was dedicated — that 
the lofty arches and fretted roof were His, not theirs — that if their hearts swelled, 
it should be with penitence, and hope, and reverential love, not with vain self- 
gratulatiun ? 

But it is lime we enter ; and as we do so, wc may notice, in passing, with what 
admirable judgment the transition from the dull commonplace buildings of tlic 
neighbourhood, up to the scene of consummate splendour that surrounds the 
altar at the distant extremity, and which is ulrcady attracting our eyes towards 
it. has been managed : first, there is the richly-scutptured, but uncolourcd and 
therefore quiet-looking gateway ; next comes the Round, with the black marble 
pillars relieved againi>t the light colour of the surrounding walls, the single 
painted window facing us as we look upwards, and the variotis-coloured roof with 
its light blue cinquefoils spotting the delicate ground all over it, the deep red 
borders following and marking the airy play of the gruinings, and the central 
ornament with its large blue ilowcrs and gilded boss set in a circular frame-work 
of decoration ; lastly, there is the view onward into the chancel, where the roof, 
thrown into such fine perspective, draws the eye unresistingly along a maze of the 
most delicately beautiful but glowing hues, which seem, at every fresh crossing 
of the arches, to grow more and more intense : it is hard to resist the impulse 
of at once stepping forward and thruwing one's self into it, to luxuriate heart and 
■oul on BO novel and captivating a scene ; but it is better to proceed regularly : 
we will first examine what is immediately about us. We are in the far-famed 
Round, and shall find it no difGcuU matter to pause awhile. 

In our former paper on the Temple Churcht we gave an engraving of the 
valuable and well-known efBgies preserved in it. These had become so greatly 
injured by lime, neglect, and by attentions of a kind infinitely worse than neglect, 

^ D'tmmiiaBB of tbe oburch : Rutundo, 09 feet to dimuiet« -, Cbaiurr), 83 feet in length, OB iii widUi» 37 lu 


f Nck LXX.. * Tb« T«Dpl« Clturch : Ita HUtocy aud Amoci&ucu. 



that all their mlnote and beantiful details of sculptnre and costume were lost ; 
and they were also extenBivcly mutilated and fractured; in consequence, it was 
difiiculc to determine what could be done with them in the recent restoration. It 
was painful to see them in so unworthy a state, and at the same time it was 
feared they were too far gone for any process of re-edification. Mr. Kdward 
Richardson, however, asculptor, undertook to experimentalize on the worst — and 
perhaps originally the most beautiful of the figures : the one here on the righ'.., 
nearest the central walk, of the second pair. Setting out with the principle of 
adhering rigidly to the idea of restoration of that which could be proved to have 
existed — not of making what he might fancy ought to have existed — he deter- 
mined, as he has kindly explained to us, to remove no portion of the surface 
however isolated or small, except in extreme cases of necessity, and that he 
would supply none of the missing parts except on the most precise authority 
drawn from the effigies themselves: which he hoped to find. He set to work 
in the following manner :— First, with a finely-pointed tool he removed the 
crust of paint, whitewash, and dirt that enveloped the effigy, which in parts was a 
quarter of an inch thick; the tcdiousncss of this operation may be judged when 
we state that the surface he was so careful not to injure was more like a honey- 
comb in many parts than any surface that had been originally smooth. He now 
found, as he had anticipated, ample evidence of the character of those little but 
valuable points of costume and expression which had been unintelligible before. 
The next thing was to secure the original surface from further decay (to which 
the exposure to air would have made it peculiarly liable), by forcing into the 
Btono some chemical preparation, which hardened in the pores. All the minute 
holes were now stopped with a cement which perfectly imitated the material of 
the e6figy ; the artist, as he well expresses it, working in this manner from "sur- 
face to surface" over the whole. There remained but to add the missing por- 
tions, which, among others, included the lower part of the legs and feet : this was 
done in the same material as the effigy, and joined by the cement. The result 
may be told by the order issued by the Benchers to Mr. Richardson, to restore 
the whole of the effigies ; or, still better, in the words of an eminent architect, who 
observed, when he beheld it in its present state, " The public will never believe 
that this has been a mere restoration.*'* Thus these effigies, which are the best 
authorities we possess for military costume from the reign of Stephen to that 
of Henry III. — which are as works of art so surprising, that one of our greatest 
sculptors said the other day he could not understand how they could have been 
executed in that period— and which, lastly, arc so interesting in their connection 
with the early history of the building, and with that greater history in which 
some of them at least figured so conspicuously, are restored to us in their habits 
as they lived : for there is no doubt whatever that such representations were 
accurately imitated from the countenance, figure, and garb of the originals. 
One only exception has to be made — absence of colour. It was discovered iu the 
process of restoration, that the figures had been all more or less painted ; some 
nnly slightly, so as to relieve the sculpture, but one of them, the effigy of Wil- 
liam Pembroke the younger, was richly coloured throughout, having a surcoat of 

* Mr. Ridurdion it prepiring fur pubUcstloD elnboralc diAwiog* of Uie effijpes iu Ibor mtored tOM. 



crimson, armour of gold, and a cushion or pillow enamelled with glass. Tho 
effigies, when first placed in the church, lay side by side in one broad row 
across the central avenue> their heads towards the east, as was proved by the 
interesting discovery of the coffins in the recent excavations. These were eighi 
in number; six of them lead, the others stone of immense size. There was a 
beautiful carved cross on one of the latter. Other discoveries, not without 
interest, were made at ihe same time. In noticing the history of Geoffrey 
de Magnaville, in our former paper, we stated that, on account of his 
dying excommunicated, the TemplarSi who attended him on his death-bed, 
not daring to bury him in consecrated ground, hung his coffin on a tree 
in their garden till absolution was obtained, and then buried him in the porch 
before the western door; and there he was recently found; for there can be no 
doubt that one of the two broken sarcophagi discovered beneath the pavement 
of the porch was his. Fragments of a third sarcophagus were also discovered 
just within the doorway crossing beneath the walk of the aisle. The arrangement 
of the effigies was a matter of much consideration and experiment before their 
present position was decided on. They now lie four on each side the central 
avenue, and parallel with it, in a double line ; those on the right being, first, 
William Marshall, the younger, sheathing his sword, one of the bold barons who 
made John alternately shiver with fear and burn with rage ; then, by his side 
beyond him, his great father, the Protector Pembrolce, his sword piercing the 
head of the animal at his feet. Passing on to the second pair, foremost is the ex- 
ceedingly graceful but unknown figure before mentioned, on which the restoring 
process was first tried; and the second, another son of Pembroke's, Gilbert Mar- 
shall, in the act of drawing his sword. The probable feeling of the artist in this 
gesture is very beautiful. His father and his brother were men who had per- 
formed great things, and it is easy to see that their respective gestures are meant 
to signify as much ; but Gilbert, when on the eve of going _to the Holy Land, 
was killed by the accident of his being thrown by a runaway horse at a tourna- 
ment m 1241, which he himself instituted in defiance of the mandates of 
Henry III. : the sculptor, therefore, desired to show what he would have done 
but for his premature decease. Of the four corresponding figures on the left 
three are unknown, and the fourth is that of De Magnaville, the burly warrior in 
front of the western pair. The remaining effigy, an exquisitely beautiful work, 
is that of Lord de Ros, another of the barons to whom we owe Magna Charta 
this lies on the extreme right against the wall of the aisle, but in the same 
ceDtral line of the church as the other figures, whilst in a corresponding po- 
sition on the extreme left is the coped stone shown in the engraving before re- 
ferred to. 

Let us now step from the central to the side walks, or, rather, from the Round 
into the lower-roofed aisle which surrounds it, and, having marked the stately 
inarblc pillars which rise at intervals to support the groined roof with its gilded 
bosses; the stone seat on which these pillars are based, and which runs along the 
bottom of the wall throughout the entire church (no doubt the only seat to be 
found here in olden times) ; having admired the low but richly -sculptured arcado 
also rising from the seat, and stamping lightness and beauty on the wall above, 
where the pointed arches, and pillars with Norman capitals to support thcnu 



show once more the pro^eu of the struggle between the styles, and the ap- 
proaching victory of the former; then the heads which decorate this arcade: — but 
here, as the eye runs along the row, it is at onco arrested by the startling 
countenances which meet its glance, and by the endless variety that they 
exhibit. Again and again do we perambulate the entire circle of the aisle, for 
they also accompany il the whole distance, to gaze upon those novel, expressive, 
and powerfully characteristic faces. Setting out from the doorway along the left 
aisle, we presently come to one (the seventh) that, once beheld, is never to be 
forgotten : anything so intensely full of agony, so ghastly in its horror, we never 
beheld. Then, to notice only the more remarkable of those countenances which 
pass before our eyes, wc have those of a pale student; a female of distorted 
beauty ; a cynic foil of suffering, but expressing at the same time his marvellous 
contempt fur it ; a head on which an animal has fastened and is tearing the car; 
a jester J numerous serio-comic indescribables one after another; a fine placid 
philosopher, with a look, however, of earnest surprise ; homed and demoniac 
grotesques ; and against the wall of the archway leading into the loft aisle of the 
chancel, a female with the most touching expression of grief and utter desolation 
conceivable; you feel the tears are falling, though you do not sec them: it is 
evidentl}' a mother enduring some more than mortal anguish. Such is the left 
half-circle of this wondrous sculpturesque phantasmagoria. Crossing to the 
right, and so back again along that half-circle to the door, we find a striking and 
unsatisfactory change. The heads have in numerous instances little of the pecu- 
liar qualities of those we have noticed; a circumstance partly explained by the 
modern interpolations visible at a glance among them, and still more by the 
answers given to our inquiries on the subjects of these heads. It a]>pears that at 
the time of an earlier repair of the Round (1825 — 1827) many of the heads were 
greatly decayed, and here and there some entirely missing. It is worthy of 
notice how the restorers of that day acted in comparison with the restorers of 
this. First, an able mechanic, but without the slightest pretension to artislical 
skill and knowledge, was set to work on the heads of the side last mentioned, and 
they were copied as we now sec them. Some little attention had probably been 
called to the subject in the mean time, and the eonscquonoe was. that the restora- 
tion of those on the opposite or north side was conducted with greater care, but 
still it jiras thought quite unnecessary that a sculptor should touch them. That 
done, of course the old heads seemed to the parties of no further use. so they 
went off to the builder's yard, bad, good, and indifferent, and were there used — 
will it be believed? — as cart-wheel crutches; that is, to put under the wheels 
occasionally to prevent their slipping backwards. Such was the result of 
the inquiries made after them during the recent restoration of the 
Church ! And now as to the general idea of the sculptor in these heads. 
It is impossible to go carefully through those on the north side without 
perceiving that, with but few exceptions, they all express an idea of pain, 
varying from the lowest animal manifestations up to the highest and 
most intellectual. On the south side, on the contrary, the predominant expres- 
sion is placid or serene ; and those of a different character, which are of original 
design, were probably removed firom the opposite side, and the very ones sub- 
stituted from this side, which there form so marked and corresponding an cxcep- 


tion lo their neighbours. But many of these are evidently noi of original design, 
but copied, in ignorance not merely of the sculptor's object, which might have 
been excusable enough, but in opposition to the manifest rule that all the heads 
should be different. Thus, in the centre of the north side, arc three heads — a 
queen, some merry personage, and then a king. The expression of the king's 
countenance is very fine, and in harmony with the gloomy character of his nume- 
rous companions ; whilst his queen's, on the contrary, has almost a simper upon it. 
Crossing to exactly the opposite spot on the south side, we find a precisely similar 
group, only that both king and queen arc here accordant and serene — evidently 
showing, apart from the similarity of the queenly faces, that the other queen has 
been copied from this, to fill up a vacant space, which the restorer knew not how 
else lo fill. And what is the idea that we think these heads were intended to con- 
vey, and which, if perfect, and arranged as we believe them to have been, they 
would now convey to every one? — It is that of Purgatory on the one side^ and 
the relief from it, by the prayers and intercessions of the Church, on the other. 
It may be thought some corroboration of this supposition to point out that the 
lofty corbel heads, one on each side the wall of the entrances into the aisles of the 
chancel, which are original, arc so decidedly and carefully contrasted as to make 
it certain the sculptor had some idea of the kind indicated. The peace that 
passes all understanding is as unmistakably stamped on the head on one side 
of the arch, as the unendurable agony of eternal torture is on that on the other. 
In both arches the condemned faces arc Saracenic : of course mere Purgatory 
was not enough for them. A curious, anil, to artists at least, an interesting dis- 
covery, looked at in connection with the frequent custom of the Greeks even 
in the purest period of sculpture, was made duriug the restoration: some 
of the heads just mentioned had glass beads inserted for eyes. We may ob- 
ftcrvc. in concluding our notice of the heads in the Rotunda^ that the best of 
them are evidently bad copies of masterly originals — giving us the character 
and expression, which could not be well missed, though they have no doubt been 
sufficiently adulterated, and giving us nu more. We may see how much we have 
lost in the exchange by a glance at the only other original head, of the beautiful 
little seraph with flowing hair, on the curner of the wall between the Rotunda 
and the south aisle. This was discovered but a week before the opening of the 
church. Traces of colour are still perceptible ; and we learn from Mr. Richardson 
that the cheeks had been delicately tinged with the natural hue, the lips with 
vermilion, the pupil of the eye with blue, whilst the hair had been gilded. It 
was, as usual, thickly encrusted with layer upon layer of paint, dirt, and 
whitewash, so thickly indeed as to have escaped discovery till the period men- 
tioned. But such was the state of the building generally only two short years ago. 
As wc now turn from one beautiful and stately object to another, with a growing 
sense of delight, to see how the parts and the whole mutually harmonise with and 
enhance each other, it is difficult to recall the medley scene they have displaced. 
The painted window above was not then in existence, and that exceedingly ele- 
gant sculptured wheel-window over the entrance was closed up ; the roof was flat, 
and the groining of the aisles was concealed in whitewash ; every marble pillar 
(then unknown to be marble) the samej monumental barbarisms of the worst 
periods of English sculpture (now happily removed to the triforium above) were let 


into the very body of the pillars, and also encumbered the arches ; the noble three- 
fold entrance, from the Round to the chancel, instead of enhancing — by the mo 
mentary interruption of the view, and In the new combinations at the same lime 
formed — the superior architectural beauty we are approaching, as at present, was 
most carefully hidden by a glass screen extending right across; and above, in the 
central archway, was the organ revelling in classical decorations; lastly, the very 
bases of the pillars in the chancel were entirely hidden by the great pews, and 
the pavement of the church throughout was considerably higher ihan the original 

level. On examination of the pillars in the Round, when they had been cleaned, 
it was found that they were so decayed that new ones were indispensable; and 
great as the expense necessarily was, the Benchers determined to make no un- 
worthy shifts, but to re])lace them as they ought to be replaced. Accordingly a 
person was sent to Purbeck to make arrangements for the opening once more of 
its celebrated quarries. This little circumstance shows the spirit in which the 


Benchers -undertook and carried on their task. As to the pa\*emcnt, it was found, 
on digging down to the original level, that it had been formerly tesfiollated ; and, 
in consequence, we have got rid of the staple ornament for modern churches, 
when we wanted to make them very fine, as at St. Paul*s — the black and white 
rhccqucr — and have obtained this warm and beautiful surface instead, formed of 
encaustic tiles. The ground is a dark red or chocolate, but so elaborately covered 
with the amber or yellowish ornaments, as to make the latter the prevailing hue. 
The patterns form, first, divisions of various breadth (the widest in the centre of 
the central avenue), extending, side by side, from the entrance-dour to the 
farthest end of the chancel: within each division there is no alteration of pattern, 
but the divisions themselves, as compared with each other, present considerable 
differences. The two most striking are those next to ihc broad central one, 
where, as we pace along, we have the lamb on one side of us, and the winged 
horse on the other — the emblems of the two Societies to which the church belongs. 
The former is founded on the device of Sl John; the latter, it is supposed, on 
the interesting story related in a former paper, of the poverty of the Knight 
Templars at the outset of their career, when two knights rode one horse. Among 
the other ornaments of the pavement are a profusion of linked-tailed animals in 
heraldic postures: lions, cooks, and foxes; tigers^ with something very tike mail 
upon their shoulders; basilisks, and other grotesques. There are also copies of 
designs of Anglo-Saxon origin — as figures playing musical instruments; and one 
illustrative of the story of Edward the Confessor — the Evangelist John and the 
ring — a design which at once tolls us from whence the materials for the pavement 
ha\*e been borrowed, namely, the Chapter House, Westminster Abbey. The 
pavement formed by the tiles is as strong and imperishable as it is beautiful. The 
tiles are perforated all over with small holes on the under side, consequently when 
they are laid on the cement prepared to receive them, and pressed down, the 
latter rises into these perforations, and, hardening there, binds the whole indis- 
eolubly together. 

It is a remarkable and somewhat happy coincidence, although one that does 
not seem to have been yet noticed, that the revival of the art of decorating our 
public buildings should have been begun in that very church where it is highly 
probable the art may have been first witnessed in all its splendour in England, 
but which, at all events, was founded by men who were among the introducers of 
that art into this country. When the Crusaders returned from the Holy Land, 
we know that they brought with them a confirmed taste for Eastern magnifi- 
cence. " Barbaric pearl and gold ' had not been showered before their eyes in 
vain ; and among the Crusaders, the KnightsTemplars. rude us was the simplicity 
in which they delighted at the outset of their career, great as was their then con- 
tempt for luxury and wealth, very much altered their minds, to say the least of 
it, adcr a few visits to the Holy Land. To this circumstance doubtless may be 
attributed the Eastern character of the decorations of the period, as on the dome 
here above us, for instance* Our ecclesiastics, being at perfect liberty to hang 

* It mrbe t/tmrrrvA here, once for ftll, tuat tht dccor^knj througoout the cborcb tn strictljr in aceoroAiice witk 



Up, as in yonder arcWay, a SaTacenic head or two in terrorem to all infidels, and 
as a kind of preliminary counterbalance, would no doubt accept, and turn to their 
own purposes, and, we must own, we think very sensibly, whatever infidel genius 
might have sent them across the seas. They who knew so well the effect of 
appealing to man's entire rather than to his partial nature only were not 
likely to reject any means that offered. From the moment he entered the 
sacred building, they took possession at once of his eye, ear, heart, and mind ; 
and no wonder that afterwards they could turn him towards what point they 
pleased of the theological heaven. Of course this was a glorious field for 
abuses, and abuses sprung up with a strength and luxuriance that not only over- 
powered the flowers Art had strewed abroad, but almost concealed the goodly 
temple of fieligion itself. Then it was that the early Church reformers arose in 
their strength, one by one. The " sour " Puritans, as in our one-sided vision we 
call them, because, seeing the Herculean task before them, they went to their work 
with the hands and heart of a Hercules, cutting away, might and main, on all 
sides; marking every step with their blood, as they waged unequal war with the 
multitudes ready to defend what they sought to destroy, but still pressing on till 
the whole — confession and indulgence, bulls, pardons, and relics, or by whatever 
name the noxious growths were known — were rooted up; — and with them the 
flowers went too. Well, wo have at last a pure soil to raise them upon once 
more; for the successors of the Puritans (a thousand times worse than them, for 
they debased art, whilst the others at worst only kept it in abeyance) have gone 
into the same final receptacle of all error — oblivion. And so, commending the 
fine passage here following, from the writings of an eminent Protestant divine, to 
the consideration of those, if there are any such, who still doubt the value, in a 
spiritual sense, of such exhibitions as the Temple Church now affords, we shall 
proceed forward into the scene that for the last hour has been drawing our eyes, 
at intervals, most wistfully towards it Bishop Home says, " We cannot by our 
gifts profit the Almighty, but we muv honour him, and profit ourselves; for, 
while man is man, religion, like man, must have a body and a soul : it must be 
external as well as internal ; and the two parts, in both cases, will ever have a 
mutual influence upon each other. The senses and the imagination must have a 
considerable share in public worship i and devotion will accordingly be depressed 
or heightened by the mean, sordid, and dispiriting, or the fair, splendid, and 
cheerful appearance of the objects around us." 

We could hardly suggest a better way of preventing the imagination of a 
reader from conceiving the true character and effect of the oblong portion 
of the Temple Church than by giving a careful and accurate architectural 
description, the process would be so unlike that which informs the spec- 
tator who is on the spot. The view impressed at once upon the eye of the 
latter is what is desiderated for the former — is what words of the most 
general, rapid, and suggestive character can verj' inadequately convey— and is 
what systematic description cannot give at all. We need hardly, therefore, say 
we shall not attempt the latter course; and as to the alternative, we cannot but 
feel how such glowing and various beauty as that before us becomes chilled in 
the very attempt to resolve it into words. Yet, if the imagination can be stirred 



by external influences, it should be, indeed, active here. As we enter, let us step 
into the corner on the right. The first impression is of a mingled nature : a sense ot 
the stateliest architectural inaguificeuce, supporting and enveloped by the richest 
and moat playful combinations of fairy-like beauty of decoration, each lending to 
each its own characteristics in the making of so harmonious a whole. Thus, the 
marble pillars, of a dark rich hue, beautifully veined, seem to flow rather than to 
tower upwards to meet the gay but delicate arabcsqucd roof, until, above the 
capitals, they suddenly expand their groins like so many embracing arms all 
over it, receiving at the same time from ihe roof a sprinkling of its own rich 
itorc of hues. See, too, how those magnificent arches, spanning so airily the 
wide space from pillar to pillar, and viewed from hence under so many combina- 
tions of near and remote — aisle, centre and aisle — those Atlases of the struc- 
ture, see how content they are to serve as frameworks for the pictures seen 
through and above them, and, like all true strength, to look only the more grace- 
ful in their strength for the flowery chains which have been twined around them. 
The entire architecture of the Church, indeed, which is esteemed "decidedly the 
most exquisite specimen of ]K)inted architecture existing," seems to give one the 
idea of its having thrown off the air of antiquity which time has not unnatu- 
rally imparted to it, and to start into a second youth, lustrous with all those pecu- 
liar graces which youth alone possesses. The lancet windows of the ojjposite 
vide, beautiful alike in thcmsclvea and in relation to the architecture around, but 
tindecorated, alone fail to add their tones to the general glow of splendour; 
though they still look so beautiful that one could fancy they borrowed a reflec- 
tion from the latter ; and, as we turn to the [>erfect blaze of colours and gilding 
at the cast end of the chancel, it might be supposed that the wealth that would 
have been reasonably suflicient for the whole of the windows, has been concen- 
trated in those three at the sides of and above the altar. In examining the 
smaller parts of which this sumptuous whole is composed, the attention again is 
naturally attracted first to the ceiling, us was no doubt the case originally; for, 
in taking down the plaster and paint covering, not only were traces of decorative 
painting found, but also rich ornaments worked in gold and silver. The chief 
objects which stand out from the elaborate but everywhere light and grace- 
ful arabesques arc the small circular compartments scattered over the entire roof, 
one in each of the natural divisions formed by the groins, and containing alter- 
nately the lamb on a red ground and the flying horse on a blue. These arc 
varied in the aisle, where we see the banner half black and half white, " because 
they [the Templars] were and showed themselves wholly white and fair towards the 
Christians, but black and terrible to them that were miscreants,"* and with the 
tetters B E A V S E A N, for Beauseant. their equally dreaded war-cry. This 
banner was changed in the reign of Stephen for the red Maltese-like cross on a 
white ground, which forms another of the devices ; and a third is copied from the 
seal of Milo dc Stapleton, a member of the order, which still exists in the British 
Museum, attached to a charter of the date of 1320 : this represents the cross of 

* Favync cnwafn of tliiiour) ; tvfennl tu in Mr. Willeaient'i account, in 'TlwTrniitle Cbuich,' by WUlia 


Christ raised above the crescent of the Saracen, with a star on each side. As we 
now move on towards the painted windows of the cast end, we perceive, among 
other interesting niinutise. the pious inscriptions, in Latin and in antique charac- 
ters, that every here and there decorate and inform the wall with their stern 
threatenings to the wicked, their sweet and elevating consolations to the weary 
and heavily laden, their admonitions to all to remember the uses of the glorious 
structure — the end of all the solemn pomp around. That long inscription com- 
mencing in the north-west corner against the entrance to the aisle, and running 
all down that side, across the cast end. then again along here at our back, till it 
finishes on the wall of the entrance archway close to the spot from which it 
started, is the * Tc Deum.* Drawing still nearer to the western extremity, is it fancy 
only that suggests the sense of growing richness — an effect as though the whole 
compartment beyond the two last pillars was lit up by some peculiar but unseen 
radiance? The general character of the decoration evidently has not changed. 
As we look, however, upon the roof attentively, we perceive that, whilst with the 
most subtle art the eye has not been warned of any sudden or striking alteration, 
the whole has been altered, the hues have grown deeper — the arabesques more 
elaborate — the whole more superb : yet still as remote as ever from garish or 
unseemly display : as fitting a prelude to the gorgeous eastern windows that 
illumine the compartment, as they are both suitable accessories of the altar 
beneath — resplendent in burnished gold — exquisite alike in its architecture and 
sculpture; whilst ail^roof, windows, and altar, form most appropriately in every 
sense the culminating point of beauty of the Temple Church ; the grand close 
of the beautiful vista through which we have advanced. The central or chief 
window is most rich in its storied panes, containing, as it docs, a numerous series 
of designs from the life of Christ, conspicuous among which appears the Cruci- 
fixion. The variety and sumptuousncss of the details are beyond description. 
Over all the immense space occupied by the window, you can scarcely find one 
piece of unbroken colour two inches square : how great then the artistical skill 
that can combine such minute fragments into so splendid a work ; and, one would 
suppose, how tedious the process ! Here we must venture to suggest a fault, or 
what appears to us to be one, and we find that others have also noticed it. The 
prevailing colours are blue and ruby, with — less prominently — green. It is. we 
believe, generally admitted that one of the principles of the ancient artists was 
vivid distinctness of colour: here, on the contrary, the blue and red mingle into 
something very like purple. This is less perceptible in the two side windows, 
and not at all in the one in the centre of the church facing the organ-lofl. We 
have heard that this is owing to the use of a particular kind of red in the first, 
and which was not used in the last. This window Is, in consequence, more bril- 
liant-looking and pure in its masses of colour; and though these arc confined to 
the figures of the angels playing antique musical instruments, one in each side- 
light, and three in the middle one, the remainder of its ornaments consisting 
chiefly of mere dark pencilled scrolls, covering the entire surface, yet so striking 
is the contrast, so chaste and beautiful the result, that if we were asked whether 
it be really true that the Art so long lost is reviving among us, we should desire to 
give no better answer than a reference to this window. But, hark ! there wanted 







to complete the spell that 

to possess this place, and all 



who enter, and it comes. A few preluding notes, the first big drops as it were 
of rain amid sunshine, and out bursts Lhc divine tempest of harmony from the 
mighty organ. Roof, walls, windows disappear ; the Temple is for the moment 
nothing— we arc borne up by the magnificent volume of sound, the willing sport 
of the elements, tossed to and fro. But divine is the power that moves — the 
voice BO potent to stir stirs not idly ; from the glorious turmoil steals out the 
lowest and gentlest of tones ; you would catch it — you listen, and lo ! its whisper is 
already ascending from your heart. But alas ! some visitor, deaf to the " con- 
cord of tweet sounds/' recalls us to earth, to reflect how near we had been to heaven. 
•* O. the power of church music !" And thankful may we be that in this, sm well 
as in the other arrangcmenLs, the Benchers of the Temple are actuated by the 
right feeling, as they arc gratifying that feeling by a judicious liberality. The 
choir, consisting of fourteen voices (six men and eight boys), ia to be permanent^ 
and brought as speedily as possible to a high state of excellence. The organ, it is 
generally known, is one of the finest in this country, and has an amusing history 
attached to it. About the end of the reign of Charles II. the Societies determined 
on the erection of an organ ; the two great builders of that time were Schmidt, 
or Father Smith (for — the correct appellation being too hard, we presume, for 
English ears — so he was called), and Harris. Of course they were rivals ; and as 
each desired to have confided to him the erection of an organ which was to be 
supreme in its excellence, and as each was supported by numerous patrons and 
partisans, the Benchers were somewhat puzzled how to decide. Their solution 
of the problem was worthy of the acknowledged acumen of the profession. They 
proposed to the candidates that each should erect an organ in the church, and 
that they would then keep the best. The proposal was accepted, and in nine 
months two organs appeared in the Temple. Did any of our readers ever witness 
the debut of two rival prima donnas at an opera — the crowded tiers upon tiers of 
faces, the eager anticipation, the excitement, the applause replying to applause? 
Some such scene, modified only by the peculiarity of the place, appears to have 
att«^ndcd the debut of the two organs. First, Blow and Purccll performed on 
appointed days on Father Smith's great work. The getting such coadjutors must 
have rather startled Harris; but there was still Mons. Lully, and he did full 
justice to his organ. Which was best? The Smithians unanimously agreed 
Smith's ; the opposite party remained in opposition, and equally single-minded. 
Month after month the competition continued, for the space of a year, when 
Harris challenged Smith to make certain new reed stops within a fixed period, 
and then renew the trial. This was done, and to the delight of everybody. But a 
choice was more difficult than ever. Each was evidently the best organ in the world 
except the other. The matter began to grow serious. Violence and bad feeling 
broke out, and the consequences to the candidates became in many ways so injurious, 
that they arc said to have been "just not ruined." Lord Chief- Justice Jefferies was 
at last empowered to decide, and we have now before us the organ he favoured 
— Smith's 1 We have already mentioned the former position of this instrument, 
its present one was only adopted atYer a long and anxious deliberation, in which 
gentlemen of no less importance thau Messrs. £itty, Sidney Smirke, Cottingham, 



Blore, Wnietnent, and Savage took part; and, certainly, the decision is mt 
unworthy of the collective wisdom. U now stands in a chamber built behind, 
and rather larg:er in every way than the central window on the northern side ; an 
arrangement that left the noble view unobstructed which we have shown in a pre- 
vious pag-e, and which required no other adaptation of the window than the mere 
removal of the glass, and the walls of division between the lights. The classi- 
caliiies have been ruthlessly swept away, and you now see its gilded and gaily- 
decorated pipes rising majestically upwards towards the Gothic pinnacles 
which crown it, rich in fretwork, and beautifully relieved against the painted 
roof of the light chamber behind. In a little vestry-room beneath are the bust 
of Lord Thurlow, who was buried in the Temple vaults, and the tablet of Oliver 
Goldsmith, who was burled in the churchyard. The last was set up at the ex- 
pense of the Benchers, a few years ago, as graceful and honourable, as it was, of 
course, a spontaneous acknowledgment of the poet's burial in their precincts. 
These, with other memorials, will be shortly removed into the gallery sur- 
rounding the upper part of the Round, where Plowden, the crmincnt lawyer, 
lies in c(^gy beneath a semi-circular canopy — one of those heavy masses of 
stone, paint, and gilding, obelisks, death's heads and flowers, that so de- 
lighted our Elizabethan forefathers, accompanied by various others of the 
same kind. At the back of the seats occupied during service by the Benchers* 
ladies, on a black stone against the wall, we read the inscription — Joannes Sel- 
denvs — a name that needs little comment. " He was," says Wood (*Athcnaj'), 
"a great philologist, antiquary, herald, linguist, statesman, and what not I" He 
died in 1654. Of the remaining details of the church, we can only enumerate the 
carved benches, with their endless variety of heads, animals, and of flowers and 
fruit, copies from similar works preserved in our cathedrals ; the sumptuous 
accessories of the altar, as the crimson velvet cloth with its gold embroidery; tho 
ambry and piscina discovered on the removal of the '* light wainscot " that formerlv 
covered the lower part of the wall ; the arch with the effigy of the bisho( 
beneath it who is mentioned in our former paper, in the south-east corner ; the 
penitential cell, also there referred to^ which is on the side of the circular stairs 
Leading up to the Triforium, in the wall of the archways between the Rotunda and 
chancel ; and lastly, the portraits of the* kings which decorate tho upper part 
of these arches, namely — Henry I., Stephen, Henry II.. Richard I., John, and 
Henry III., monarchs who were all, more or less, benefactors to the Temple; with 
the reign of the first of whom the order started into existence, and with the last, 
virtually terminated. Henry's successor, Edward I., gave unequivocal evidence 
of his desire to help himself to a little of the Templars' wealth, instead of confer- 
ring some of his own on them ; and hh successor suppressed them, a.d. 1303. We 
must add, that those who would know to whom we are indebted for the painted 
windows throughout the church, the roof, and, indeed, the decorations generally, 
will see in the northern window of tho three at the east end, if they look carefully, 
the following words: *' WiUetnent hoc opu^- fecit'' The chief architectural works 
were commenced from the plan and under the superintendence of Mr. Savage, 
and (through some private differences) completed by Mr. Decimus Burton and 
Mr. Sidney Smirkc. The carvings are by Mr. Nash. Already the public are 






ftdmitted freely on the afternoons of Sunday, and it is not improbable that, 
"irentuaUy, daily strvicc will be performed here, which, of course, would he also 
3pen to them. 

Keverting to the topic of our introductory remarks — piogrcsB, and the pro- 
bablo effect of the present restoration — whither may we hope its influence will 
guide UB? The state of our eathcdi'als will at once occur to every one ; what a 
world of whitewash is there not to be removed, what exquisite chapels and chapter- 
houses to be restored, even in a mere architectural sense— -witacBS the disgraceful 
state of the chapter-house of Westminster Abbey, for instance ; what piles of 
monuments to be carried up into the 'i'riioriums, before even the peculiar fea- 
tures of the Temple restoration — the decorative— arc begun. But, supposing all 
this accomplished, are we to rest there? Let us answer the question by imagin- 
ing, for a moment, what might be done within some given period, under favour- 
able circumstances. To begin with the Temple. Whilst we may be certaiu 
that we have by no means reached the pinnacle of mere decorative sjtlendour 
allowed by the severest taste, we have yet to call to our aid in such structures 
the highest artists — more particularly the sacred painter, with his solemn frescoes 
from Holy Writ, to which alt other decorations should be but the mere adjuncts. 
The stranger wandering from such a building as this will find it stands not alone ; 
that Art has asserted and established its universality. If he walks into the hall 
of ihe neighbouring University (we beg the reader still to accompany us in 
imagination), he linds a series of grand designs illustrative of the objects of 
the institution; he sees Theology, Jurisprudence, and Philosophy, each sur- 
rouniied by her disciples — the messengers unto the world of all that the world 
has most reason to cherish. From the University to the Gallery of Art; with il« 
long external range of statues of the great masters whose works are within, with 
its exquisite pediment, showing all the processes of sculpture, from the modelling of 
thccluy and the hewing of the marble, up to the last touching of tlie finished produc- 
tion. Within he finds the accumulated stores, arranged with the most consummate 
slcilL every work carefully placed, so as to be well lighted, and beautifully relieved 
against the back or surrounding walls — he finds the whole informed by one har- 
monious spirit — above all, he finds that each department reveals its own artistical 
hUtorj', ft-om the earliest to the present time, by the quality and sequence of the 
works. Looking still farther, he perceives that, from the prince to the peasant, 
there is a comparatively universal sense of enjoyment in and appreciation of these 
things. Whilst the King, if he has a palace to build, says to the architect, 
" Build me a palace, in which nothing witliin or without shall be of transient 
fashion or interest; a palace for my posterity, and my people, as well as my 
s«lf," and obtains accordingly such a work as has seldom or never before been 
seen, the people on their parts are stopping here in crowds, parents with 
their children, soldiers, mechanics, young and old, to examine the paintings of 
the public arcade, as they pass through it on their ordinary business; works 
by the rising painters of the day, the men of young but acknowledged genius, 
who arc preparing themselves for the highest demands that can be made 
upon them, in this series, illustrating all the great events of the national history. 
Again " But/' interrupts a reader/' you do ru)t mean seriously to intimate 


that all this is practicable, or at least within the next half-dozea centuries f— 
It is a mere dream." Very possibly. The ideas, so hastily suggested here> 
may be too gigantic for accomplishment in the great ca])ital of the great British 
Empire; not the less, however, has aU that we have described, and a thousand 
times more than could be gathered from our remarks, been done in the capital 
of the little kingdom of Bavaria, and in twenty years! All honour to the poet- 
king, Ludwig the First, and to the artists with whom he feels honoured in con- 
necting his name. 


[Tb% Wcalen V> Uxlow, Aitv, ac , icminf (.iiun-u-j 

[PnoBMiou of riftCAidB.! 


1 11 

he <\ 

n- f 

Among what may be called the open-air Exhibitions of London — the collefl- 
tions of worka of art gratuitously cx|K)Bod to public view — there are none moro 
interesting than the "External Paper-hangers* Stations." The windows of the 
prinlshops^Bpecially of those in which caricatures are exhibited — have great 
attractions* doubtless : but there is a grandeur and boldness in the c/iefs-tPceutre 
of the stations, which completely eclipses them. The engravings in the print 
shop windowE have contracted a good deal of that mincing elaborateness of finish 
which characterizes what may be called the Annuals' School of Art; those which 
we see at the stations, on the contrary, have all the boldness, if not much of the 
imagination and artistical skill of Salvator Rosa, and may compete the palm 
roughness, at least, with the Elgin Marbles in their present weather-worn con 

The stations of the External Paper-hangers arc numerous, but rather ephe-i 
xneral in their existence, and migratory in their propensities. It requires no | 
great previous preparation, or expenditure of capital to establish one. Any 
dead wall, or any casing of boards around a public monument or public dwelling ' 
in the process of erection, on which the cabalistic words *' Bill-Stickers, beware !" 
or " Slick no Bills!" have not been traced, may be, without more ado converted I 
into a place of exhibition. And the assiduity with which the " Hanging Com-| 
mittee" of the groat metropolis adorn the brick or wooden structure with a fresh' 
supply of artistical gems every morning is amazing. 

The boarded fence at the top of the stairs leading down to the steam-boat 
station at the north-end of Waterloo Bridge, the dead wall beside the English 
Opera House in North Wellington Street, the houses condemned to have the " im 
proTcmcnts** driven through where Newport Street abuts upon St Martin's Lane. 

VOL. V. o 





the enclosure round the NcUon^s Monument in Trafaltrar Square, the cnclosui'6 
of the spate on the west Bide of St. James's Street, where the Junior United 
Service Club House is about to be erected, arc at present the most fashionable 
and conspicuous of these exhibitions ut the " West End." The purlieus of the 
new Kuyal Kxehange arc most in vogue in the City, but the rapid progress of 
the buildings threatens ere long to force the exhibitcrs to seek a new locality. 

The attractive character of the objects exhibited at these places sufliciently 
accounts for the crowds of lounging amateurs which may at almost every hour of 
the day be found congregated around them. There arc colossal specimens of typo- 
graphy, in juxta]>osition with which the puny letters of our pages would look like 
a snug citizen's box placed beside the pyramids oT Egypt. There are rainbow- 
hued placards, vying in gorgeous extravagance of colour with Turner's last new 
jiicture. There are tables of contents of all the weekly newspapers, often more 
piquant and alluring than the actual newspapers themselves, these annunciatory 
placards not unfre(|uently bearing the same relation to the journals that the 
tempting skins of Dead-Sea fruits have been said to bear to their drj', choking 
substance : or, to adopt a more domestic Bimile, that the portraits outside 
of wild-beast caravans do to the beasts within. Then there are pictures of 
pens, gigantic as the plumes in the casque of the Castle of Otranto, held in 
hands as huge as that which was seen on the banisters of the said castle; spec- 
tacles of enormous size, (it to grace the eyes of an ogre ; Irishmen dancing under 
the influence of Guinness's Dublin Stout or Beamish's Cork Particular; ladies in 
riding habits and gentlemen in walking dresses of incredible cheapness; prize oxen, 
r whose very appearance is enough to satiate the appetite for ever. Lastly, there 
are " Bills o' the Play," lettered and hieroglyph ical, and it is hard to say which is 
the most enticing. One of the former tells us that " Love " has just returned 
from America, and will *' perform " alternately at the Strand Theatre and Crosby 
Hall "during the whole of Lent." This announcement, by the association of 
ideas, reminds one that St. Valentiuesin just past, and Byron's 'Beppo' is still in 
existence. But the Pictorial Bills o' the Play bring before our startled eyes a 
*• Domestic Talc," in the shape of one man shooting another on the quarter-deck 
of a vessel in flames, off the coast of Van Dicmen's Land, with emigrants and 
convicts of all sha]ies and sizes crowded on the shore ; or the grand fight 
between grenadiers and Jacobite conspiratoi-s, in the "Miser's Daughter;" or 
■• Jack Ketch," caught on his own scatl'old ; or a view of the ** tremendous 
Khyber Pass," as it may be seen nightly at the Queen's Theatre, with Lady Sale 
at the top of it brandishing a pistol in either hand, beneath the cocked and 
levelled terrors of which a row of turbaned Orientals kneil on either side of the 
heroine. And here wc may pause to remark, how hopeful must be the attempt 
to extract the true history of ancient Greece out of its epic poets and dramatists, 
when modern playwrights arc seen to take such lit>crtic8 with the veracious 
chronicles of contemporary newspapers. 

It becomes philosophical historians to penetrate beneath the mere shows and 
external surfaces of things, The works of Phidias and Michael Angelo were 
not simply meant to be pleasing to look upon — they were intended to be agenta 
in exciting and keeping up devotional feelings. And in like manner the gaudy 
orna igcnts wit h whicli^ our External Paper-hangers adorn their stations have' a 



^^^^^^^^^^^^ ADVERTISEMENTS. 35 

Pfatilit y of their own, and arc meant (this is noted for the information of posterity 

^Tor the living generation know it woU enough) to serve the purposes of adver 

tisingjbr the interests of i ndividuals, ae w ell as of amusing the public at large. 

A strange chapter in the history of man might be written on the subject of 
Advertisements. Tliey became ucccsaary as soon as any tribe became numerous 
enough for any one member of it to bo hid in a crowd. The heralds of whom we 
read in Homer were the first '• advertising mediums," and in remote country towns 
the class still exists in the shape of town drummers and town bellmen, employed 
to proclaim orally to the citizens all impending auctions, and many perpetrated 
larcenies, with losings and findings of every possible category. Manuscript 
placards seem to have been next in order : some fossilized specimens of them 
have been preserved on the walls of Pompeii, under the showers of moistened 
ashes with which that town was potted for the inspection of posterity. Of this 
system of advertising existing samples may occasionally be seen in rural dis- 
tricts, where manuscript announcements of hay crops for sale and farms to let 
arc from time to time stuck up on the gates of the clkurchyurd ; or even in 
the suburbs of the metropolis, in the guise of exhortations to purchase" Warren's 
Blacking," or try somebody's '* Gout and Rheumatic Oil." The invention of "] 
printing naturally caused printed placards and posting bills in a great measure / 
to supersede the written ones; with the increasL'd circulation of newspapers the. 
practice gained ground of making them the vehicle of advertisements j and 
finally all sorts of periodicals, and even books published once for all, have been 
made to carry along with them a prefix or an appendix of these useful announce- 

With every increase in the multiplicity of industrial avocations, and in the 
density of population, increases the necessity of devising new vehicles of adver- 
tisements, and alluring forms for them. In order to live, a man must get em- 
ployment ; in order to get employment^ his existence and his talents must be 
kuown ; and, in proportion to the numbers by whom he is surrounded must be 
his efforts to distinguish himself among the crowd. In a company of half-a-dozen, 
the man who is an inch taller than his fellows is distinguished by this slight dif- 
ference ; but, in a congregation of ten thousand, it requires the stature of the 
Irish giant to make a man conspicuous. It might easily be imagined, therefore, 
even though the proofs were not before our eyes, to what a degree of refmed per- 
fection the art of advertising has been carried in our crammed and busy Xx)ndon. 
'Ilicrc are advertisements direct and indirect, explicit and by innuendo; there is 
the newspaper advertisement, the placard, and the hand-bill ; thei'c is the adver- 
tisement literary and the advertisement pictorial ; there is the advertisement in 
the form of a review or of a newspaper paragraph ; there is the advertisement 
(most frequently of some milliner, or tailor, or jeweller, or confectioner) lurking 
in the pages of a fashionable novel. Some people write books merely to let the 
world in general, or at least those who have officiftl appointments to bestow, know 
that they are there, and, in trading phrase, " open to an engagement.** Na^', some^ 
there arc who, by constantly forcing thoir personal presence en public notice, 
convert themselves Into ambulatory placards, making their livts, not what the 
sentimentalist calls " one long-diawn sigh,'' but one incessantly repeated and 
wearisome advertisement. 

D 2 




It would be equally futile antl tedious to attempt to enumerate and classify all 
:hc vehiclcB of advertiecmcnts, and all the formB which advertisements assume in 
London in the present high and palmy state of the art of advertising-. It will 
sutfice to run over a few of ihe most striking and characteristic in a cursory 
manner. The appearance of the external paper-hangers' stations has already 
been described. The ex ternal I>afcr-^n^ crs themselves are a peculiar race ; 
well known by sigh't from theirTustian jackets with immense pockets, their tin 
paste-boxes suspended by a strap, their placard-pouches, their thin rods of office, 
with croHs-stafl" at the extremity, formed to join into each other and extend to a 
length capable of reaching the loftiest elevations at which their posting-bills arc 
legible. A corporate body they arc, with consuetudinary bye-laws of their own, 
which have given rise to frequent litigations in the police courts. The sage 
judges of these tribunals have fonnd ere now the title of an external paper- 
hanger to his station as puzzling as that of a sweeper to his crossing. Then 
there seems to be a kind of apprenticeship known amongst them, though, from 
several recent cases at Bow Street, there is room to doubt whether the right* 
and duties of master and 'prentice have hitherto been defined with sufficient ]>re- 
cision. The period for which a placard must be exposed to public view before 
it is lawful to cover it over with a new one is a nice question, but seems settled 
with tolerable certainty. And, to the honour of London external paper-hangers 
be it said, that there is rarely found (even at the exciting periud of an election) 
among them that disregard of professional etiquette, or rather honour, which 
leads the mere bill-sticker of the provinces to cover over the posting-bills of a 
rival before the latter have well dried on the wall. Great juflginenl is required, 
g and its possession probably is the best mark of distinction between the real artist 
/ and the mere mechanical external paper-hanger, in selecting the proper expo- 
j surea (to borrow a phrase i'roni horticulture) for bills. Some there are whose 
# broad and popular character laughs out with most felicitous effect from the most 
f conspicuous points — others, calculated for a sort of private publicity, ought to bo 
* allixed in out-of-the-way nooks and comers, retired but not unseen, provoking 
I curiosity the more from the very circumstance of their being only half seen, each 
Xasemi-reducta Venus. The ^irofession of an external paper-hanger, it will be 
seen, requires intellect as well as taste — it is rather superior to that of an uphol- 
sterer, and rather inferior to that of an artist : in regard to the degree of tact 
and talent required to exercise it with effect, the profussion is as nearly as pos- 
sible on a level with the Hanging Committee of the Royal Academy, and the 
spirit which animates the two bodies seems as similar as their occupations. 

Another class of advertising agents is more comifletely distj^iuvtHVom tKS*" 
ternal paper-hangers than cursory observers would suppose — <Iie bill-distribut ers.) 
The point of precedence is not very satisfactorily adjusted between the two sefa 
of functionaries. The bill-sticker (we beg jiardon for using the almost obsolete 
and less euphonious name, but really its new substitute is too lengthy), with his 
tin paste-box and wallet of placards, has a more bulky presence — occupies a 
larger space in the world's eye — and the ofRcial appearance of his bunch of rods 
adds to the illusion. He is apt to swagger on the strength of this when he passes 
the mere bill-distributer. On the other hand, there can be no duubt that the 
bill-distributor regards his calling as more private, less ostentatious— in shoit. 







manlilce than that of the bill-sticker. " Any man," said an eminent 
inenibcr of the proft'saion, with whom we had once the honour to argue the (jucs- 
tion, *' any man can stick a bill upon a wall, but to insinuate one gracefully and 
irresistibly into the hands of a lady or gentleman, is only for one who, to natural 
genius, adds long experience.*' In short (for his harangue was somewhat of the 
longest), it was clear our friend conceived his profession to stand in the same 
relation to that of a bill-sticker that the butler out of livery does to the footman 
io it And, in corroboration of his views, it must be admitted that there is an 
air of faded gentility about many of the bill-distributers of the metropolis. 
There is one of them in {larticular, whose most frequent station is in front of 
Burlington House, whose whole outward man and manner resemble so clusely 
those of a popular member of Parliament — the same flourishing whiskers, the 
same gracious bend of his slim person — that, in St. Stephen's, one could fancy 
the bill-distributer had just emerged into better circumstances; or, in Piccadilly, 
tliat the bill-framer had met with a reverse of fortune. It may be observed here 
that bill-distributers may be classified as permanent and occasional. The perma- 
nent are those who, like the gentleman last alluded to, have a station to which 
they npair day after day: the occasional arc those who, on the occurrence of a 
public mcetiug at Exeter Hall, or on a court-day at the India House, or any 
similar occasions when men congregate in numbers, arc placed at the door with 
hand-bills — most frequent})' advertisements of unsaleable periodicals — to stuff 
theiu into the h ands of all who enter. 

acard^ are comparatively a recent invention. The first form 
they assumed was that of a standardbcarer, with his placard extended like the 
Roman vcxillum at the top of a long pole. Next came a heraldic anomaly, with 
placards hanging down before and behind like a herald's tabard: Boz has sume- 
ivhere likened this phenomenon to a sandwich — a jilece of human fltsh between 
two slices of pasteboard. When these innovations had ceased to be novelties, 
and, consequently, to attract observation, some brilliant genius conceived the 
idea of reviving their declining powers by the simple process of multiplication. 
This was no more than applying to the streets a principle which had already 
succeeded on the stage. An eminent playwright — the story is some hundred years 
old— finding a widow and orphan had proved highly effective in the tragedy of a 
rival dramatist, improved upon the hint by introducing a widow with two 
orphans, but was trumped in turn by a third, who introduced a widower with six 
small motherless children. The multiplication of pole-bearers answered admi- 
rably for a time, but it also has been rather too frequently repeated. Of lato the 
practice has, in a great measure, been restricted to a weekly newspaper of enor- 
mous size and enormous circulation, which seems to have discovered that the 
pablic could only be made aware of the great number of copies it purchased by 
this mode of chronicling the intelligence. 

To peripatetic placards succeeded the vehicular. The first of these were sim- 
ple enough — almost as rude as the cart of Thcspis could well be supposed to be. 
last relic of this simple generation still performs its circuits, warning, in 
cly and affectionate fashion, " Maids and bachelors'* — " when they marry" — 
ttf " purchase their bedding*' at an establishment where they are sure to get it 
cheap and good Alas, in the ancient timCj when we were married, there were no 



such kind advisers to save young folks from being taken in in this important 
article of domestic economy ! The lirst attempt at something finer than the 
lumbering machines alluded to was a colossal hat, mounted upon springs like a 
gie (that badge of the '* respectable"), which may still be romemhcrcd — perhaj s 

still bo seen — dashing do^rn Regent Street at the heels of a spirited horse, with 
the hatmakcr's name in large letters on the outside, vhercas small human hats 
have in general only the hat wearer's n!\iiu' in small letters on the inside. Then 
rame an undescribable column mounted. like the tower of Juggernaut, upon the 
body of a car — a hybrid between an Egyptian obelisk and the ball-surmounted 
column of an English country-gentleman's gate. It bore an inscription in 
honour of " washable wigs " and their cheapness. The rude structure of ^oard fl 
s tuck round vfkh J2lacardg.haii-of,Jate_given way to natty va ns, vamiahcd like 
toaches, and dec o rated with e mblematic J^ainting's. The first of these that met 
our C)'e had emblazoned on its stem an orange sky bedroppcd with Cupids oi 
cherubs, and beneath the roseate festoon of these tiny combinations of humau 
heads and duck-wings an energetic Fame pufling lustily at a trumpet Below 
this allegorical device was attached — on the occasion when we had the honour to 
make the acquaintance of this vehicle — a placard displaying in large letters 
the name of '^the monster murderer, Daniel Good.'* There was an apotheosis ! 
The luxury of vehicular advertisements continues to increase with a steady 
rapidity that might appal the souS of an admirer of sumptuary laws. No further 
gone than last week did we encounter a structure not unlike the iron monument 
reared in the neighbourhood of Berlin to the memory of the heroes of the war of 
independence. It was the same complication of arched Gothic niches and ]»in- 
nocles; but in the niches, instead of the effigies of mailed warriors, stood stuffed- 
out dresses, such as arc worn by the fashionables of the day. The figures were 
life-like in every respect, except that all of them wanted heads By some internal 
clock-work the stnicture was made to revolve on its axis as the car on which it 
was erected whirled along. It was a masterpiece of incongruity — blending in its 
forms Gothic romance with modern tailorism; in its 8Uggcsti\-e associations the 
proud monument reared by a nation to its deliverers from foreign tyranny, with 




the processions of Ttctims of the guillotine in the maddest moment of France's 
blood-drunken revolution. The genius of Ahaurdity presided over the con- 
coction, and hailed it as worthy to be called her own ckef-d^cnuvre, and as the 
ne p/vs uittfi of the efforts of human insignificance to attract notice in a crowd. 

The adverlisemcnts to which we have hitherto been referring only encounter 
the Londoner when he ventures out into the streets. They jostle him in the 
crowd, as any other casual stranger might do. Tliey are ut best mere chance 
acquaintances : even " the old fitmiliar faces " among them do not intrude upon 
our domestic privacy. When we shut our street-doors we shut them out. But 
thfirn-*fc n f;!"" ^p n.U'^i'ticnmnntc nrhlch follow US lo.QH^r homes — sit beside us 
in our caay chairs— whisper to us at the break fast- table — are regular and che- 
rished ti si tanta^^^^TFe advertisements whicli crowd the columns of a newspaper.. 
Newspaper advertisements are to nc\vs)i, news wTiat autobiography is to the 
narrative of a man's life told by another. Tlic paragrajibs tell us about men's 
sayings and doings: the advertisements r/r*: tFc'r snymgs ami "dulliiiH. ' 'I'MI/fTb 
i t^raJ^liffTr' j^i^ ^ g^cat about tl u- :idv( rUsl ii^r coluuitis which lK*[nn::s Ui h" utlur 
departm ent of a ng^^P.^E'^-T!:— -Ilv*^,' '' " ""^ \'-\\\\-i luen^ arc busy about, ho\y they 
feci, wnat tney think, what they w;int. As wf *on them over in the pages of 
the * Tunes^'or ' Chronicle/ we have the \\\\u\v busy ant-hill of London life 
I^K exposed tojiur^view. The journals we have named do more lor us. without ask- 
^1 ing us to leave the fireside, than the Devil on Two Sticks could do for Don 
^1 Cleofas after he had whisked htm up to the steeple, and without tlic trouble of 
^1 untiling all the houses '■ as you would take the crust off a pie.'* 
^m It is not to matters of business alone, as the amateur in advertisements well 

^1 knows, that these announcements are confined. Many of them have such a 
^m suggestive mystery about them, that they almost deserve u place in the " Mo- 
^1^ nance of Real Life," In corroboration of this we take up a file of the ' Times,* 
^^■Jlknd open at random, turning to the top of the second column of the first ]>age. 
the locality most affected by this class. There is an imploring pathos about the 
^H very 6rst that meets our eyes, that might suggest matter for at least three chap- 
^P tera of a modem novel : — *' F. T. \V. is mott urgently intreatcd to communicate 
his address to his friend J. C., before JiixaUy determining upon so rax/i a course 
^H ^/ conduct as that mentioned in his letter of yesterday. ylU may ami mil be 
^M arranged. The address, if communicated^ will be considered confidential." Still 
^M more heart-rending are the images conjured up by the address upon which we 
^^ stumble next:—" To A. M. Your brother implorvs that you will immediately 
j return home, and every arrangement will be made for your comfort; or write 

^B mc, and relieve the dreadful distress in which our ])arents arc at your absence.'* 
^ The next strikes the note of generous enthusiasm : — " Grant. Received 5/. 6*., 
with thanks and admiration for the rare probity exhibited." The superhuman 
rirtuo which could resist the temptation to pocket 5/. 6.r. called for no less. 
What next? A laconic and perfectly intelligible hint: — "P. is informed that 
E. P. is very short of money. Pray write soon.'* Would that all our duns 
would adopt this delicate method of reminding ua of their claims. All the world 
^n knows what rcgcntleman means ; bnt perhaps few arc aware that the gentleman 
|H risited London in the year of grace I'iS'W (for from the records of that year arc 
me now culling) : — " If the cab-driver who brought thk gentleman from Littlo 



Queen Street thb morning to , St. James*s, will bring the blue great- 
coat, he will receive It-n shillings reward." The next is of a ga^er cast ; It may 
hare been an advertisement of Tittlebat Titmouse. Esq., in his jolly days: — 
"Ten shillings Reward. Lost on Friday night last, a rhinoceros walking- 
cane, gold mounting, with initiats T. T., supposed to have been left at the 
Cider Cellar, Maiden Lane. Apply at the St. Albans Hotel, Charles Street, 
St. James's." This comes of young gentlemen's larking, and sitting late at the 
Cider Cellar, which, by the way, is a cellar no longer, having been promoted to 
the ground floor. Paulo majora canamus! here comes emphasis and delicate 
embarrassment enough for three whole volumes : — ** To the philanthropic and 
affluent. A young and protectionless orphan lady of respectability is in most 
imminent need of two hundred pounds to presen'e her from utter and irre- 
trievable ruin, arising mainly in a well-meant but improvident bill of acceptance, 
that from miscalculation of means in timeliness she has been unable to meet, and 
whereby legal process has just issued against her, involving a recherche limning 
property, of a far greater, and to three hundred pounds insured amount. In 
the forlorn yet fervid hope of such her twofold critically fearful case attracting 
the eye of some benevolent personage, forthwith disposed to inquire into it, and, 
on the proof, humanely to step fcjrward to her rescue, both herein and for afford- 
ing her a gratuitous asylum till the advanced spring, at least, when such pro- 
perty could be made best converj^iblc, this advertisement, by an incompetent but 
anxious well-wisher, in appreciation of^ her great amiability, wonted high prin- 
ciple, domestic, and on every hand exemplary worth, is inserted." 

How easily might a practised .stoey-9omj>OBer manufacture a domestic tale out 
of these materials, gleaned in a cursory glance of a few minutes! He might 
paint, with Dutch fidelity, the bitter as causeless squabbles of relatives ; might 
intersperse the graver chapters with pictures of life about town, as witnessed by 
the hero of the ** rhinoccros-canc " in his nocturnal perambulations; and what 
a splendid heroine, ready-made to his hand, in the fair one who could inspire tho 
prose Pindaric just quoted ! It seems to have become a received law that there 
must be some love in a novel, and even this we may find in the rich mine we are 
now excavating; fOr in these days of puhlictty and gigantic combinations, even 
'The Times' has been enlisted under the banners of Cupid, and made occasion- 
ally the means **to waft a sigh from Indus to the Pole." We open upon chance; 
and lo ! at the head of the aforesaid second column of the first page — ** Why 
does Frederic come no more to St. John's Wood ?" The song say» — 


** At the Baron of Mowbray's gate was seen 

A pa^*^ M'iili a oourser black ; 
Tlirn yut came » Knight of a p;al!ant raien 

And he leapt on ilieconrRcr'H liai^k ; 
HtB heart was ]i<;ht and his arinuur brigliU 

And III.* Bung ttiis merry Uy - 
' O ladies t beirarc of a brave young man. 

He lavee and tie rides auay.* 
A Lady looked over the castle wall 

Wlien she hc&rd the Knight thus sin^, 
And when alic heard the words hr let lall, 

iJcr hands she bcgaji tu wring ." Hcc, 



Now this was rery natural, for in thoge days there were no newspapers. But 
had ' The Times' then existed, the woeful lady of the ballad need not have been 
reduced to unavailing hand-wringing: she would immediately have inserted, in 
the advertising columns of his newspaper — '* Why does the knight of a gallant 
mien come no more to the Baron of Mowbray's castle?" Every morning daily, 
as he took his breakfast, would he be reminded of his offence. Afraid to toucb 
the haraiising monitor, his matutinal meal would lose more than half its relish. 
No place of refuge could he fly to where the wailings of his mistress could not 
follow him. They would be heard in the coffee-room, they would penetrate even 
into the asylum of the club. A spell would be upon him, rendering life misera- 
ble till he knelt for mercy at the feet of his mistress again. The fair dames of 
romance could only stab, poison, or betake themselves to sorcery, but our forlorn 
ones can advertise their lovers as "stolen or strayed." 

The following advertisement, which appeared in the ' Chronicle * of the present 
year, not long after St. Valentine's, may also have reference to the tender pas- 
sion; the hero of it might serve for the loutish lover &o frequently introduced 
as a foil to the serious and elegant inamorato of a tale : " If ihe author of the 
Lines, of which the following is a skeleton of the first stanza, will communicate 
with the person to whom they were recently addressed, which is earnestly desired, 
the result cannot but be gratifying to both parties ; — 

You • 

And • 

You • 





Old Woman.'* 

The rhyme is somewhat peculiar. The mystery of this advertisement is easily 
solved. The Police Reports noticed, a few days before its publication, that a 
gentleman hud appeared at one of the offices in high dudgeon because, on ap])ly- 
ing at the Post Office to have the postage of a Valentine returned, he was 
politely informed, " that it was the practice to return the postage of all anony- 
mous letters — except Valentines." Doubtless, the communication which was to 
be in its result *' gratifying to both parties/' was a mere bait to catch the offender 
who had mulcted the angry gentleman in twopence; and if the sweet youth was 
caught, it needs no spirit of divination to teU that assuredly he tasted of cudgel. 
Matrimonial advertisements are at a discount, but a class which still retain 
msoup^on of matrimonial speculation continue to haunt the newspapers. Here is 
a specimen: — " A Laily in her thirty-third year winhea to meet with a situation 
as Companion to a Lady, or to auperinicnd the domestic concerns of a If^idotcer. 
She has been accustomed to good society, and can give unexceptionable refer- 
ences. As a comfortable home is the principal object, a u oderate salary will suffice.** 
"Fq/t "thirty-third" read ** thirty-eighth." It is a buxom widow, who wishes 
to secure a good house over her head, with a chance of becoming its mistreiis. 
If her appearance please the honest man who accepts her services, he had best 
go to church with her at once, for " to this complexion it must come at last.** 
Perhaps, however, he would prefer to male himself with the *' Kespcctable 
Widow " in the next column, who is " fully competent to superintend the house- 
hold aflairs of a Single Gentleman, or a Mercantile Kstablishmcnt /* or, better 


still, a female " of high respectability and of the Established Church." who 
"would be found invaluable where children have been recently deprived of 
maternal care ; and, being clever in miMinery and dresx-makmg, would take them 
under her entire care." Yet Bomcthin^ more than being clever in millinery and 
dress-making is sometimes thought necessary to qualify for the charge of chil- 
dren ; so perhaps the widower might prefer sending his daughters to the innu- 
merable admirable seminaries of education where young ladies are taught — 
"French, Italian, and German; English Composition; Mathematics, Political 
Economy, and Chemistry; the use of the Globes; Calisthenics (and single- 
stick?); Drawing, Entomology and Botany. — N.B. Latin and Greek, if re- 
quired ;" and where, in addition to all this cramming, " the Diet is unlimited ! * 
Our British fair do not lavish all their attentions on the other sex — they have 
some sympathy left for their own : — "Two Ladies, residing within a few miles of 
town, wish to receive a Lady suffering under Mental Imbecility. While every 
attention would be paid to her health, it would be their study to promote the 
comfort and amusement of the patient, aa far as circumstances might allow. The 
■use of a carriaye is required." whether Me patient be able to use it or not. The 
benevolent and disinterested attention to the comfort of utter strangers, implied 
in the advertisement of the ladies under consideration, is not confined to the 
breasts of the softer sex. Here is a male philanthropist, who, unable to find 
occupants enough for his roomy benevolence, steps from the circle of his acquaint- 
ance into the regions of the unknown, and volunteers his services to all and any 
persons: — "Any Gentleman desirous of engaging in ftn easy oud agreeabfe 
profession will have an opportunity that offers — provided he has 1000/. to 
employ as capital." Indeed, in these days, when, according to some statesmen, 
the whole country is labouring under a plethora of capital, it is astonishing to 
tec how many humane individuals advertise their services to bleed the ]>atients. 
All classes of readers find advertisements suited to their ditFcrent tastes. To 
literary men, aldermen, and other sedentary and masticating characters, of a 
dyspeptical tendency, the medical advertisements arc irresistible. One learned 
practitioner proclaims — "No more gout, no more rheumatism !" Another, bor- 
rowing a metaphor from the worshipful fraternity of bum-bailiffs, talks of 
" Bleeding arrested ;*' we have " Ringworm cured by a Lady," and " Toothache 
cured by a Clergyman of the Church of England."* "Parr's Life Pills" may 
be such in reality as well in name ; but " Cockle's Antibilious Pills " are certainly 
a passport to immortality, for the learned vender of them enumerates among his 
active and influential patrons several whom the ill-informed public had long 
numbered with the dead. Young men turn with interest to the advertisements 
of the theatres and other places of public entertainment : these arc generally 
well classified, but to this praise there is one exception. An ingenious clergy- 
man who takes for his texts— not passages from the Scriptures, but — the most 
recent topics of the day, and preaches upon the themes of journals in a style . 
quite as entertaining, duly advertizes in the course of each week the topics he is 
to discuss on the following Sunday. It is rather hard upon this gentleman that 

* Speaking orioolbulic, tome may luvo ou Iiitoreit in knowiDg that — " A iady, hnving dUcorcred aii inra- 
luab1« article Tur ttiir tootnactu, now mbmitfl it to ibe public u uneqaaUcd, iinofrtjtiirinff any apptieatioH to 
tAe tatth, or (inxluolag the ilighteK inoonreaienM." 








neither the * Times' nor the 'Chronicle* will place his advertisements among 
those which immediately precede the " leading article '* — that being evidently 
their proper place, say between the announcement of the '* Dissolving Views ' 
of the Polytechnic exhibition, and that of the Zoological collection at the 
Knglish Opera House. On a theme so copious one might run on for ever: but. 
before drawing bridle, let us, at least, give immortality to an advertisement 
'hich must s]>cak trumpet-tongucd to every warlike and patriotic soul : — 

*• Aux Etats Foiblks, voisins, d'aucune puissance dominante aggressive, I'in- 
venteur propose Tcmploi do son arme nouveUe, nommtie par lui, Lk Pacifica- 
TBOR, qui par son pou\-uir dc^tructif enorme contrc les masses, cgalisera lea 
forces les plus disparates, ct entre Ics mains d' un people rendra nuls les utten- 
liits d'un stranger sur leur independanco nationale. Les agens pleinmcnts 
autorises peuvent s'addresser a Mons. Charles Toplis, Poultry, London," 

What a crow from the Poultry ! What a huge turkeycock gobble! This is 
' man-trAps and spring-guns" on a magnificent scale, set to guard kingdoms 
instead of cabbage-gardens. The terrific emanation shakes all our nerves, and 
forces us to seek refuge from the stormy passions of the present, amid the silence 
and repose of the dead and buried past. 

Not, however, before we have paid a hasty but heart-felt tribute to the great- 
rtij matfoB nf fhr advertising art in ancient or modern times — the illustrious . 
George Kobit}8. We arc obliged to stick him in here, because, as is generally 
original genius, ho fits into none of our categories. Uia-juisxx- 
ti«etnent8 _are calculatgd^jilikg. Jbr the postin g- bill^ thc_d '«H''*^"^"^y I"*' ^'" ■• l '^'^ 
newspaper , and lookcqua Uy well in all. Typo graphical they arc, and yet th e 
t ypes aaggmc, in thcmya p ictoriaj fh^rnr-ftr No man ever made his letters 
epeak like George Robins. His style is his own : to speak in the language of 
the turf, one could imagine he had been " got by Burke out of Malaprop.** He 
has carried the eloquence of advertising far beyond all his prcdeccssora. And, as 
was the case with his great precursors in eloquence, Demosthenes and Chatham. 
his •* copia fandi " has raised him to great charges — to be Chancellor of the Ex- 
chequer to IhcDrury Lane renters, and founder of a colony at the Cape of Good 
Hope, the annals of which he is writing in his own advertisements. 

The art and science of advertising even in London did not reach the state of 
perfection in which we find it all at once. Enough has been said to show that 
even the young among the present generation may have noted a progressive im- 
provement. But our forefathers, though not quite equal to us. were, after all, 
pretty fellows in their way ; they understood something about advertising too, 
as we shall soon be able to convince our readers. The perishable placards a nd 
posli n g- bills of the ancients arc gone — they have i^ rJah^^ ^^^'^ *^'" fr^npg pf 
Leonardo da Vinci — but the domesticated advertisements of the newspaper hare 
been stored up \n libraries foi the inspection of the curious. There are at this 
moment lying on our table some stray journals and Gazettes of the good days of 
Qaeen Anne and the two first Georges, and a complete set .of the ' Tatler * in 
the folio half-sheets in which it first appeared, with all the real ad\*ertisements^ 
we do not mean Steele's parodies upon them; and. examining those archives 
carefully, we arc sometimes almost templed to give the palm to the advertisers 
of that remote era. The art of advertising is perhaps in our days more uni- 

vereally known and practised — there arc no such crude, unliclced lumps of adver- 
tisomcnts as there were in a-D. 1711 ; but, again, there is scarcely the same racy 
originality. The advertisers of those days were the Shukspercs of this depart- 
ment of literature: those of the present time can rarely be estimated above the 
contributors to the annuals. 

Place aux dames ! There are plenty of wealthy and titled dames in our day 
who like to see their benevolence blazoned abroad by the advertised lists of 
subscribers to charities : but, apart from the s]>ice of romance in its story, the 
following ftdvertiscment by the Duchess of Buckingham, in 1734, combining a 
skilful blazonry of her own humanity with a caution against over-drawing on her 
bank of benevolence, throws their timid, indirect self-praise at second-hand en- 
tirely into the shade: — " Last Tuesday evening, a female child, of about three 
weeks old, was left in a basket at the door of Buckingham House. The servants 
would have carried it into the park, bub the case being some time after made 
known to the Duchess, who was told it was too late to scud to the overseers of 
the parish, and that the child must perish with cold without speedy relief, her 
grace was touched with compassion, and ordered it .to be taken care of. The 
jterson who left the letter in the basket is desired, by a penny-post letter, to in- 
form whether the child has been baptized; because, if not, her grace will take 
•care to have it done; and likewise to procure a nurse for it. Her grace doth not 
propose that this instance of her tenderness should encourage any furtlicr pre- 
sents of this nature, because such future attempts will prove fruitless." These 
were the days in which * The History of a Foundling ' might have been read. 

Even the reverend orator who advertises that the newest and most fashionable 
topics arc discussed every Sunday from his pulpit had a prototypi* in those days, 
and one of much more daring genius — the Reverend Orator Henley. Here is 
one of that grave divine's announcements for 1726: — " On Sunday, July 31, the 
Theological Lectures of the Oratory begin in the French ChajKil in Newport 
Market, on the most curious subjects in divinity. They will be after the manner 
and of the extent of the Academical Lectures. The first will be on the Liturgy 
of the Oratory, without derogating from any other, at half an hour after three in 
the afternoon. Service and sermon in the morning will be at half an hour after 
ten. The subjects will be always new, and treated in the most natural manner. 
On Wednesday next, at 6ve in the evening, will be an Academical Lecture on 
Education, ancient and modern. The chairs that were forced back last Sunday 
by the crowd, if they would be pleased to come a very little sooner, would find 
the passage easy. As the town is pleased to approve of this undertaking, and 
the institulor neither does nor will act nor say anything in it that is contrary to 
the laws of God and his country, he depends on the protection of both, and 
despises malice and calumny." The advertisement of November, 1728, is still 
more daringly eccentric: — " At the Oratory in Newport Market, to-morrow, at 
half an hour after ten, the sermon will be on the Witch of Endor. At half an 
hour after five the Theological Lecture will be on the conversion and original of 
the Scottish nation, and of the Picta and Caledonians ; St. Andrew's rclicks and 
pfttiegyrick, and the character and mission of the Apostles. On Wednesday, at 
six or near the matter, take your ehance, will be a medley oration on the history, 
merits, and praise of Confusion and of Confuunders iu the road and out of the 





»&y. On Friday, will be that on Dr. Fausttis and Fortuniitus, and Conjuration; 
atler each tbe Climax of the Times, Nos. ^23 and 24. — N B. Whenever the prices 
of the seats are occasionally raised in the week-days notice of it will be given in 
the prints. An account of the performances of the Oratory from the first, to 
August last, is published, with the Discourse on Nonsense; and if any bishop, 
clergyman, or other subject of his Majesty, or any foreign prince or state can, at 
tny years, and in my circumstances and opportunities, without the least ujisist- 
ance or any partner in the world, parallel the study, choice, variety, and dis- 
charge of the said performances of the Oratory by his own or any others, I en- 
gage forthwith to quit the said Oratory. — J. Henley.'' 

Medical qnackery was in full blossom at the beginning of last century. In 
1700 we arc informed: — " At the Angel and Crown, in Basing Lane, lives J, 
Pcchey. a graduate in the University of Oxford, and of many years standing in 
the College of Physicians, London; where all sick people that come to him may 
have,yc>r sirj>ence, a faithful account of their diseases, and ])lain directions for 
diet and other things they can y)repare themselves; and such as have occasion 
for medicines may have them of him at reasonable rates, without paying any- 
thing for advice ; and he will visit any sick person in London or the liberties 
thereof, in the day-time, /or Uto sfiiUhujs' and sixpence, and anywhere within the 
bills of mortality for Jive shiliin^s ; and if he bo called by any person as he passes 
by in any of these places, he will require but one shilling for advice." This ex- 
cellently graduated tariff of charges might be recommended to the consideration 
of the faculty at large. Dr. Hcrwig's announcement is more artistically put 
together than Dr. Pechey's:—'* Whereas, it has been industriously reported 
that Dr. Herwig, itho cures madness and moxt distempers by sympathy, has left 
England and returned to Germany: this is to give notice, that he lives at the 
same place, viz., at Mr. Gagelman's, in Suffolk Street, Charing Cross, about the 
middle of the street, over against the green balcony.'' Lest, however, the supe- 
riority of Dr. Herwig in the science of humbug should be attributeil to his' foreign 
birth, we quote from the advertisements in the * Tatlcr,' August 24 to 26, 1710, 
the advertisement of an indigenous quack : — " Whereas J. Moore, at the Pestle 
and Mortar, in Abchurch Lane, London, having had some extraordinary busi- 
ness which called me into the country for these five or six weeks last past, and 
finding I have been very much wanted in my absence, by the multitude of 
people which came to inquire for me; tliese are to inform them that I am 
returned, and am to be consulted with at my house as formerly.*' This class of \ 
practitioners employed largely the services of the industrious fraternity of bill- 
distributers — as, indeed, they arc still their principal patrons. Malcolm, in 
'Anecdotes of the Manners and Customs of London during the Eighteenth 
Ceolnry,* has preserved rather an ingenious bill which men were engaged to 
thrust into the hands of passengers : — '* Your old friend Dr. Case desires you 
not to f'»rget him, a/tkouyh he has left the com/non way of bills'^ 

Some of the nostrums of these gentlemen must have been rather agreeable to 
the taste. The following appears frequently in the * Taller :' — " The famous 
rhymical quiDtessence of Bohea tea and cocoa-nuts together, wherein the volatile 
salt, oil, and spirit of them both arc chymically extracted and united, and in which 
all tha virtues of both tea and nut are essentially inherent, and is really a plea- 



sant rcrroshing proparation, found, upon experience, to be the highest restorative 
that either food or physic affords ; for, by it, all consumptive habits, decays of 
nature, inward wastings, thin or emaciated constitutions, coughs, asthmas, 
phthysjcs, loss of appetite, &c., are to a miracle retrieved, and the body, blood, 
and spirits powerfully corroborated and restored. A few drops of it in a dish of 
Bohea tea or chocolate is the most desirable breakfast or supper, and outvies for 
virtue or nourishment twenty dishes without it, as those who have taken it will 
find, and scarce ever live without it." Still more toothsome must have been the 
'* nectar and ambrosia'' of Mr. Baker, bookseller, at Mercer's Chapel, " pre- 
pared from the richest spices, herbs, and flowers, and done with rich French 
brandy." This compound, " when originally invented, was designed only for 
ladies* closets, to entertain visitors with, and for gentlemen's private drinking, 
being much iLscd that wai/,'" but, zeal for the public, and the diffusion of useful 
knowledge, stimulated Mr. Baker, the bookseller, to '* offer it with twopenny 
dram-glasses, which arc sold inclosed in gilt frames, by the gallon, quart, or two- 
shilling bottles." As to cosmetics and perfumes, the advertising columns of the 
newspapers of Queen Anne's reign bloom with immortal youth, and are redolent 
of " spicy gales from Araby the blest." 

UnchangeJ, unchangeable is quackery of all sorts. But here is an advertise- 
ment from the * Tatler' (April, 1710), which, like the Duchess of Buckingham's 
foundling, carries us back into a state of society which has passed away : — " This 
is to give notice, that Luke Clark, and William Clark, his brother, both middle- 
sixcd men, brown complexions and brown wigs, went, as it appears by their 
pocket-books, on the 18th of March last from London to Kingston; but, upon 
examination, do not own what business they had there, nor where they were on 
tno 19th, 20lb, and 2lst of the same month ; but say, that on the 22nd they 
came from London and got to Lincoln on the 23rd, and from thence to Castor, 
and 80 to Whitegift Ferry ; and on the 24th they came to Norlhcave, in the Ea«t 
Biding of Yorkshire, and remaining there two or three days, without any ap- 
pearance of business, were there seized by the constable ; and, for want of 
sureties for thcijr good behaviour, by a justice of peace were committed to York 
Castle. There were found upon them four pistols of different sizes, charged 
with more bullets and powder ready made up in papers; also two old black 
velvet masks, and several fir matches dipped in brimstone. Their horses seem 
to have been bred horses : the one being a large sorrel gelding, blind of the neai 
eye, his near fore-foot and further hind-foot white, which they say they bought 
at the Greyhound, at Hyde Park Corner, on the 17th of March last ; the other, 
a brown gelding, thought to be dim-sighted in both eyes, a little white on three 
feet: they say they bought him in Smithficld the same day, add saw him 
booked in the market-book. One of them had a grey riding-coat and straight- 
bodied coat, both with black buttons; the other's riding-coat was something 
lighter. If these men have done any robberies, or done anything contrary to 
law, it is desired that notice thereof may be given ^vithin a reasonable time to 
Mr. Mace, in York, clerk of the peace for the East Riding of Yorkshire, or else 
these men will be discharged, being as yet onlj' committed for want of sureties fur 
their good behaviour.'* 

JVrhaps the most curioun feature of the advertising columns of the ' Tatler* is 







tht imroense number of j-rivate lotteries, announced under tTic couvcnitnt name 
of sales, in the latter part of 1710. Dipping into "the Hie," upon chance, we 
find in the number for September 21-23; — " Mr. Stockton's sale of jewels, 
plate. &c., to bo drawn in the great room at the Duke of Marlborough's Mead, 
on Michaelmas-day, by parish boys and out of wheels.'* " Mrs. Houeyman, 
milliner, in Hungcrford Street; her twdcepttmty sale of goods is put off till the 
29th inat." '* Mr. Guthridgc's aixjjcri/it/ sale of goods, at Ihc toy-shop over 
against Norfolk Street in the Strand, continues." '■ Mrs. Help's sale of goods, 
consisting of plate of considerable value, being near full, is to be drawn on 
Tuesday sexcnnij^ht at the stone-cutters in Downing Street ;" and " Mr. William 
Morris's proposals for several prizes; 2500 tickets, in which there arc 177 prizes, 
the highest 100/., the lowest 1 h., and 13 blanks to a prize; half-a-croirn the 
ticket." This is rather below than above the average quantity of such ad\'er- 
tiaemcnts in a number of iho ' Tatler' about that time. The temptations held 
out to gamblers in this small way were varied in the extreme. One advertise- 
ment " gives notice that Mr. Peters' sale of houses in Glouster Street, of lOOO/., 
for half-a-crown, will be drawn within a fortnight at farthest.'* Another runs 
thus: — " Tickets for the house on Blackhcath, &c., to begin on Thursday the 
7lh September next, at the Bowling-green House on the said heath, where the 
sale is to be; at 2». C-V. per ticket; the highest prize 220/., the lowest 10». 
Note, the house is let at 14/. lO.f. per an., and but one guinea per an. ground - 
rent, the title clear and indisputable." The price of tickets for " Mrs. Symonds* 
sale of a japanned cabinet and weighty plate, in which there is but 1 1 blanks 
to a prize," was 5v. each- Mr. William Morris, mentioned above, risked for his 
2r. 6(f. tickets "a 6nc diamond cross, set transparent, with a button all brilli.intSj 
plate, atlassos on silk, six silk nightgowns, and several other valuable things." 
At Mrs. Mortly's India House, at the Two Green Canisters, on the pavement in 
St. Martin's Lane, were to be had " all sorts of Indian goods, lacquered ware. 
China fans, acrccns, pictures, &c., with hollands, muslins, cambrics, fine em- 
broidered and ]>lain short aprons, and divers ether things, to be disposed of for 
blank lottery tickets, at 71. each, and the goods as cheap as for specie. These 
were the *' great goes, " but for persons of less ample purses there were " sales *' 
for which the tickets cost Is., 6(/., 3r/., and even as low as 27. " Mrs. Painer*8 
threepenny sale of goods is to be drawn on Tuesday next, the 15th inst., at the 
Queen's Head in Monmouth Street, Soho. There arc some tickets yet to be 
Jispoftcd of there, and at her own lodgings, a clockmakcr's, ovcr-against Dean's 
Court in Dean's Street, St. Anne's; at Mrs. Williams', at Charing Cross, chand- 
ler : and ut the combmakcr's in New Street, Covent Garden." 'J'hcsc disguised 
^inbling-houscs germinated and multiplied in every court and blind alley of 
Ijondon, and the prices of the tickets were adapted to the pockets of all classes^ 
from the duchess to the cinder-wench, as the temptations were also suited to the 
Ustcs of each. This was the great school of *' mutual instruction," in which ths 
citizens of the metropolis of Great Britain trained themselves to act worthily the 
parts they performed in the years of the Great Soutli Sea Bubble, that colossal 
cpccimcn of self swindling by a nation, com])ared with which our paltry modern 
Attempts — our Puyais kingdoms, Peruvian mining-companies, joint-stock com- 
panies, of all shapes, colours, and sizes, dwarf and dwindle into insignificance. 



This plan of getting rid of stale goods with profit is not yet altogether obso- 

lete. The raiUes for ' 

ches, old 

k^hich take pic 

teapots, guns, and telescopes, 
from time to time, in remote and obscure counlry-towna, *o the inconceivable 
excitement of their listless inhabitants, are the lingering anti^juated fashions 
which were once supreme mode and bon-ton in the metropolis. Nay, the thing 
seems to be threatening to raise its head once more in London, and with a deli- 
cious hypocrisy, under the pretext of patronising and improving British art. The 
history of this '* revival'* is brief In Scotland — where the genius of economy is 
rampant, and also the love of patronising, a number of amateurs have for some 
years been in the habit of clubbing to buy pictures at the Edinburgh exhibitions, 
and dividing the spoil ty iot. An imitative association was set on foot here, either 
by picture-fanciers who had a mind to get pictures, or by artists who wished to get 
their unsaleable stock out of their studios — no matter which. So far these asso- 
ciations were what they gave themselves out for. The fashion has become con- 
tagious, and now we find, starting up in every street, " little-goes** for the 
"sale" (to adopt the phraseology of 1710) of printsellers' and picture-dealers' 
unsaleable stock. The system is an admirable one for accelerating the empty- 
ing of lumber rooms with advantage to their owners, and for increasing the 
already jwrtentous number of walls in respectable houses stuck all over with 
stiff and glaring daubs. And this device for enabling demure conventional 
moralists to indulge the taste for gambling inherent in all human beings, with 
little apparent risk or breach of decorum, is trumpeted with the hundred Stentor- 
power lungs of the puffing press as the day-dawn of a new and brilliant era in 
British art! The truth is. that the " teajxjts,'* "japanned cabinets," and " but- i 
tons of brilliants," which attracted the gulls of Queen Anne's reign, were quite fl 
as much entitled to the epithet — "works of art," as the pieces of plasterea ™ 
canvas vended by means of the London littlc-gocs of the present day. 


1.1:^^1 i^ij_i :ivu^.. 


If tl»e Kast India House only arrests the f^e of the passenger, there is nothing 
in the building itself jjarticularly calculated Lo make him pause in the midst ot 
the busy thoroughfare of Lcadenhali Street ; but if he be gifted with the divina 
Faculty of accurately delineating and colouring abstractions, then, indeed, it 
yields to none in the interest of the associations which cluster thick around it, 
it has been said of Burke, by a very brilliant writer of the present day, thatao i 
vivid was his imagination on whatever related to India, especially as to the 
country and people, that they had become as familiar to him as the objects which 
lay on the road between BcaconsBeld and St. Jameses. "All India was present' 
toihe eye of his mind, from the hall where suitors laid gold and perfumes at the 
fed of sovereigns, to the wild moor where the gipsy-camp was pitched — from 
i\if ba2aar8, humming like bee-hives with the crowd of buyers and sellers, to the 
jungle where the lonely courier shakefi his bunch of iron rings to scare away the 
!iy8enafl. The burning sun ; the strange vegetation of the palm and cocoa tree ; 
the rice-6eld and the tank ; the huge trees, older than the Mogul empire, under 
TpL. r, ■ 



which the village crowds aatienible ; the thatched roof of the peasant's hut, and 
the rich tracery of the mosque where the imaum prayed with his face to Mecca ; 
the drums, and banners, aud gaudy idols; the devotee swinging in the airj 
the graceful maiden, with the pitcher ou licr head, descending the steps to the 
river side ; the black faces, the long beards, the yellow streaks of sect ; the tur- 
bans and the flowing robes; the spears and the silver maces ; the elephants with 
their canopies of state; the gorgeous palankin of the prince, and the close litter 
of the noble lad) — all these things were to hiin as the objects amidst whidi hia 
own life had been passed.** * If such should be the rich, varied, and animated 
picture which the imaginative eye suddenly conjures up in the not very spacious 
or striking part of the great eastern thoroughfare in which the India Huuse 
coiucs into view, not less glowing are the historical recollections which attach to 
the edifice in connexion with Anglo-Indian powir. History presents nothing 
more strongly calculated to impress the imagination than the progress of English 
dominion in the East under CHvo and Warren Hastings, and Cornwallis and 
Wellesley. In&tead of clerks and mercantile agents living within the precincts 
of a fort or factory only by permission of the native rulers, who regarded them as 
mere pcdlers, Englishmen have become the administrators of the jadtcial, finan- 
cial, and diplomatic business of a gt'oat country, — of provinces comprising above 
a million square miles and a populatiun exceeding one hundred and twenty mil* 
lions, — states which yield taxes to the amount of 17,000,000/. and maintain an 
army of four hundred thousand men. All the business of government has passed 
into English hands. There is still a Nabob of the Camatic, but he is a British pen- 
sioner on the revenues of the land which his ancestors once ruled. At the capital 
of the Nizam a British resident, the representative of the East India Company, 
is the real sovereign. There is still a Mogul who plays the sovereign, but tfao 
substance of his power has passed away. Youths from Haileybury College, and 
from the military school at Addiscombe, rising by regular gradations, have suc- 
ceeded to the power once wielded by the Mahommedan conquerors of Hindostan, 
and which they exercise in a manner far more beneficial to the people. They arc 
carefully educated for judicial, financial, diplomatic, and military offices, and arc 
expected to be versed in the language of the people of whose welfare they are to 
be the guardians. This is a noble field for talent and ambition. When we first 
attempted to share with the Portuguese and Dutch in the commerce of the East, 
the qualifications required were but little higher than are now esteemed necessary 
in a custom-house officer of the lowest class. A turbulent youth was sent out to 
die of a fever, or to make his fortune. The salaries were so low that it was impos- 
sible to live upon them, and all sorts of irregular and unscrupulous practices were 
ct>nnived at, which saved the pockets of the adventurers at home at the expense 
of the native interests. The writer already quoted shows the present and former 
state of official servants in India. "At present/' he says, " a writer enters the 
service young ; he climbs slowly ; he is rather fortunate if, at forty-five, he can 
return to his country with an annuity of a thousand a-year, and with savings 
amounting to thirty thousand pounds. A great quantity of wealth is made liy 





* * KdmbDrgh Hrtriew,* No. 143, Article m Lord CUr«L 



English fuuctionariea in India; but no single functionary makes a very Urge 
fortune, aud what is made is slowly, hardly^ and houeatly earned. Only four or 
five high political offices arc riservcd ior public men from England. The resi- 
dencies, the secretaryships, the seats in the boards of revenue and in the Sudder 
courts are all jilled by men who have given the best yctirs of life to the service 
of the Company; nor can any talcntsj however splendid^ nor any connexions, 
however jioworful, obtain those lucrative posts for any person who has not entered 
by the regular door and mounted by the regular gradations. Seventy years ago 
much less money was brought home than in our time, but it was divided among 
a very much smaller number of persons, and immense sums were often accumu- 
lated in a few months. Any Englishman, whatever his age, might hope to be 
one of the lucky emigrants." A new class of men sprung up at this period, to 
whom the appellation of 'Nabobs' was given: the ephemeral literature of that 
day is filled with the jiopular conceptions of the character, and the nabob is 
usually represented as " a man with an immense fortune, a tawny complexion, 
H bad liver, and a' worse heart.*' The jjublic mind tvr thirty years was filled 
Willi impressions of their wealth and supposed crimes. 

The progress of good government is nowhere more evident at tlic i)rcsent time 
than in the administration of India. Even if the misgovcrnment now existed by 
which individuals could amass immense wealth, other circumstances would be 
entirely wanting to render the retired Indian a veritable Nabob of the old school, 
as he exists, somewhat caricatured of course, in the play and novel of seventy 
3'ears ago. At that period the voyage to or from India was seldom accom- 
plished in less than six months, and often occupied a much longer time: a year 
and a half was calculated as the average period between the dispatch of a report 
from Calcutta and the receipt of the adjudication thereon by the Directors in 
Leadenhall Street- Slow, tedious, uncertain, and unfrequent as was the intercourse 
of the servants of the East India Company with the mind of England in those days, 
what could be expected but that it should produce strong effects on those who 
went out in youth and spent thirty years of their life in India, and that at their 
return they should exhibit some rich peculiarities of character, easily assailable 
by the light shafts of ridicule, if not open to the violent attacks of those who sus- 
]icctcd them of dark crimes committed in their distant pro-consulships while 
amassing their wealth? Even Warren Hastings, so consummate a politician in 
India, was at fault when he had to deal with party interests and feelings at 
home : he had lost that fine and delicate appreciation of things which is gained 
by observation from day to day. Steam navigation has done and will do much 
to elevate the character and objects of our Indian policy, and to imbue its func- 
tionaries with more enlarged views of their duties ; for rapidity and certainty of 
communication is gradually bringing the eyes of the people upon this distant 
part of our empire. Steam has placed Bombay within hve weeks' distance of 
London,* and the scat of the supreme government in India has been reached in 
six weeks from the scat of the imperial government. Private intercourse js 
rapidly increasing in consequence of these great improvements. Before tlia 

* In August, 184t, tlie L001I411 mail readied Doobty io thJTty^ine lUyt and Ave houn. 




ettablishmcnt of lines of Bteam-communication with India in 1836, the number 
of letterB annually received and dispatched from the several presidencies and 
from Ceylon was 300,000. In 1840, the number had risen to 616,7%, and to 
840,070 in 1841. The number of newspapers sent from India to Europe in 1641 
was about 80,000; and '250,000 were sent to India; and in 1842 it is believed 
that 400,000 were sent both ways, each cover being counted as one, though it 
might contain several newspapers. A man in the jungles may now be as well 
informed on the leading topics of the day in Kngland, as if he were the daily fre- 
quenter of a news-room here. The peculiarities which seemed unavoidable at 
one period have scarcely ground now on which to take root. 

It was in the reign of Queen Elizabeth that the capture of a Portuguese ship 
laden with gold, pearls, spices, silks, and ivory called forth a body of merchant 
adventurers, who subscribed a fund amounting to something above 30,000/., and 
petitioned Her Majesty for a warrant to fit out three shijis, the liberty of ex- 
porting bullion (then deemed wealth, instead of its representative), and a charter 
of incorporation excluding from the trade all parties not licensed by themselves. 
While the discussions were pending the petitioners stated, in reply to an appli- 
cation from the government, who wished to employ Sir Edward Michelboume 
on the expedition, that they were resolved " not to employ any gentleman in any 
place of charge," and requested " that they may be allowed to sort thcirc business 
with men of their own qualitye, lest the suspicion of the employment of gentle- 
men being taken hold uppon by the gencralitie do dryve a great number of the 
adventurers to withdraw their contributions." A Charter was granted on the 
last day of the sixteenth century to George, Earl of Cumberland, and 215 
knights, aldermen, and merchants, under the title of the "Governor and Com- 
pany of Merchants of London trading into the East Indies," with exclusive 
liberty of trading for fifteen years, and a promise of renewal at the end of that 
term, if the plan should be found " not prejudicial or hurtful to this our realm.'* 
A century later the English had made such little progress in India, in compari- 
son with the Portuguese, that, in 1698, it was compulsory on the ministers and 
schoolmasters sent to the English establishments in India to learn the Portuguese 

The exclusive Charter of Queen Elizabeth was not at first respected by her 
successor, who. in 1604, issued a licence to Sir Edward Michelboume and other 
persons to trade to the East, but he was subsequently persuaded to adopt a dif- 
ferent policy ; and on the Slst of May, 1609, he renewed the Company's Charter 
*• for ever," but providing that it might be recalled on three years' notice being 
given, with some additional privileges, which encouraged the Company to build 
the largest merchant-ship that England had hitherto possessed : she was named 
the 'Trades Encrease,' and measured eleven hundred tons: at her launch the 
King and several of the nobility dined on board, and were served entirely upon 
china-ware, which was then a very costly rarity, and appropriate to the destina- 
tion of the vessel. The direction of the Company was put under twenty-four 
committees; the word committee signifying then, as we believe it does still in 
Scotland, a person to whom any matter is intrusted. It was at first hardly a 
Company : each adventure was managed by associations of individual members 






on their own account, actings generally according to their own pleasure, but con- 
funuing to certain established regulations made for the benefit of the whole body. 
But in 1612, after twelve voyages had been made to the East Indies, the whole 
capital subscribed, amounting to 42*d,000l., was united, the management of the 
business was committed to afcw principal parties, and the great body maintained 
such a general control as in recent times has been exercised by the Court of Pro- 
prit'turs. During the whole of the century the history of the Company is chiefly 
a narrative of mercantile transactions, but somewhat more interesting than those 
of our days from their adventurous character, and diversified by the accounts of 
quarrels, battles, and occasional treaties with the Portuguese and Dutch, who 
were very unwilling to admit a commercial rival. 

Turning to the London history of the Company, we find the seventeenth cen- 
tury marked by several events which deserve to be briefly noticed as illustrative 
of the times. In 1623, just before the departure of a fleet for India, the Duke 
of Buckingham, then Lord High-Admiral, extorted the sum of 10,000/. before 
be would allow it to sail: the bribe was given to avoid a claim for droits of 
Admiralty on prize-money alleged to have been obtained at Ormuz and other 
places. A like sum was demanded for the King, but it does not appear to have 
been paid. In 1C35 Charles I. granted to Captain John Wcddell and others a 
licence to trade for five years : the inducement to this violation of the Charter 
was probably the share which the King was to receive of the profits. In 1G40 
Charles I. being in want of money, bought upon credit the whole stock of pepper 
in the Company^s warehouses, amounting to 607,522 lbs., and sold it again for 
ready money at a lower price. Four bonds were given to the Company for the 
amount, payable at intervals of six months, but none of them were paid. In 1642 
J 3,000/. was remitted of the duties owing by the Company, but the remaining 
■urn of about 50,000/. was never received. In 1655 the Kepublican Government 
threw the trade to India entirely open. The experiment of a free trade was not 
fairly tried, as the Company was reinstated in its monopoly only two years altcr- 
wardfi. in 1661 Charles II. granted the Company a new Charter, conferring 
larger privileges — the power of making |>cacc and war. The year 16G7-8 is the 
first in which tea became an article of the Company's trade. The agents were 
desired to send home " 100 lb. weight of the best tcy that you can gett." In 
1836 the quantity of tea consumed in the United Kingdom amounted to fifty 
million pounds within a fraction — the duty on which was 4.6r4,5.'35/., or uiure 
than one-twelfth of the whole revenue. In this same year 1G67-8 the Company 
dispatched sixteen ships to India with the largest investment which had yet been 
sent out, the value of bullion and stock being 245,000/. In ICSl the Spitalfields 
weaver*, thinking themselves injured by the importation of wrought silks, 
chintzes, and calicoes from India, riotously assembled about the India House, 
using violent throats against the directors. 

From 16W to 1693 a dispute existed as to whether the right of conferring a 
Charter for exclusive privileges of trade devolved upon the Sovereign or the 
Parliament. In the fonner year the House of Commons decided the question in 
their own favour, and addressed the King upon the subject, but in 1693 the King 
granted a new Chartec for twenty-one years, upon which the House again 


affirmed its right, and not only i)assctl a resolution to that effect, but directed an 
inquirj' into the circumstances attending the renewal, when it was ascertained 
that it had been procured by a distribution of 90,000/. to some of the highest 
officers in the State. Sir Thomas Cooke, a member, and governor of the Com- 
pany, was committed to the Tower for refusing to answer the questions ])ut to 
him ; and the Duke of Leeds, who filled the offitc of President of the Council, was 
impeached on a charge of having received a bribe of 5000/. Further exposures 
were put a stop to by the prorogation of Parliament. Five years afterwards, io 
1G98, without much show of reason or justice, the Old Company, which had now 
been in existence nearly a century, was dissolved, three years being allowed for 
winding up its business. A New Company, incorporated by the name of the 
"English Company," was invested with the privileges of exclusive trade. The 
members com])osing the new body had outbid the older one by olfering to lend 
the Government a larger sum of money. In 1/00 the Old Company obtained an 
act authorising them to trade under the Charter of the New Company. The exist- 
ence of two trading bodies led to disi>utc8 and rivalry, which benefited neither, and 
exposed theui both to the tyranny of the native princes. The capital of the Eng- 
lish Comi)any was absorbed by the loan which it had made to Government as a 
bonus for its privileges, but the older body naturally profited from the greater 
experience of its mcmbex's. In 1702 an act was passed for uniting the two Com- 
panies, which was completely effected in 1708, seven years having been allowed 
to make the preparatory arrangements. The united bodies were entitled ''The 
United Company of Merchants of England trading to the East Indies," u title 
which was borne until the abolition of its trading privileges in 1834. The exclu- 
sive privileges of the Company were successively renewed in 1712, 1730, 1744^ 
17^1, 1793, and 1813. Very important changes were made on the renewal of the 
Charier in 1781. The Government stipulated that all dispatches for India 
should be communicated to tho Cabinet before being sent off; and they obtained 
a decisive voice in questions of peace and war. This was a prelude to the esta- 
blishment of the Board of Control in 1784, by which, in everything but patron- 
age and trade, the Court of Directors were rendered subordinate to the Govern- 
ment. In 1704 a slight infringement was made on the Company's Charter by a 
clause enabling private merchants to export goods to or from India in the Com- 
pany's ships, according to a rate of freight fixed by act of Parliament, the Com- 
pany being required to furnish shipping to the amount of three thousand tons 
annually to the private traders. In 1813 the rights of the private traders were 
still further extended. In the twenty years from 1813 to 1833, the value of 
goods exported by the private trade increased from about one million sterling 
per annum to three and a-half millions, a much larger amount than had ever 
been exported by the Company. 

In 1833 the act was j^assed by which the Company is now governed. This 
act has made greater changes in the state of affairs than all the former ones. It 
continues the government of India in the hands of the Company unti-l 1854. but 
takes away the China monopoly and all trading whatever. As the proprietors 
were no longer a body of merchants, their name was necessarily changed, and it 
wa» enacted that * The East India Company " should be their future appella- 




tion. Their warehouses, and the greatest part of their property, were directed 
to be sold : the dividend was to he 10^ per cent., chargeable on the revenues of 
India, and redeemable by Parliament after the year 1874. The amount of divi- 
dends guaranteed by the act is 630,000/., being 10^ per cent, on a nominal capital 
of6.000,OOOr The real capital of the Company in 1832 was estimated at up- 
wards of 21.000.000/.. including cash, goods, buildings, and 1,294,768/. as the 
cfitimatcd value of the East India House and the Company's warehouses, the 
prime cost of the latter having been 1,100,000/. The act directs that accounts 
of the Company's rcyenues, expenditure, and debts are to be laid before Parlia- 
ment every year in May ; also lists of their establishments, with salaries and 
allowances paid on all accounts. Knglishmcn were allowed to purchase lands 
and to reside in all parts of India, with some exceptions, which were removed in 
1837. These, and several other enactments relating to India only, have altered 
in a great measure the character of the Company. 

For some time after the English began to trade to the East, no footing was 
obtained on the Continent of India. The first factory was at Bantam, in Java, 
which was established in 1602; a few years afterwards there were factories in 
Siam; and in IG12, after many attempts, a firman was obtained from the Great 
Mogul allowing certain privileges at Surat, which was a long time the head of 
ail our trade in India. This firman was granted, or at least accelerated, by the 
success of the English in four naval fights with the Portuguese, whom the natives 
had believed to be invincible. In the same year the English received several 
commercial privileges from the Sultan of Achin, in Sumatra, who requested in 
return that two English ladies might be sent to him, to add to the number of his 
wives ! In the following year they established a factory at Firando, in Japan ; 
and by 1015 the number of factories in the East amounted to nineteen. In 161S 
the Company placed agents at Gombroon in Persia, and Mocha in Arabia. In 
1639 they received from the native chief of the territory around Madras power 
to exercise judicial authority over the inhabitants of that place, and to erect a 
fort there. This was Fort St. George ; it was the first establishment ])ossesscd 
in India that was destined to become a place of importance ; it was raised to the 
rank of a Presidency in 1653. The first footing in Bengal, the source of all the 
subsequent power of England in India, was obtained in 165i. The immediate 
means of this privilege arc curious. In the year 1645 a daughter of Shah 
chan. the Great Mogul, had been severely burnt, and an express was sent to 
urat to procure an English surgeon. A Mr. Broughton was sent, who cured 
the princess and attained to great favour at court: from Delhi he passed into 
the service of Prince Shujah, with whom he resided when the prince entered 
upon the Governorship of Bengal, and Mr. Broughton's influence there obtained 
for his countrymen the privilege of trading custom-free, which was confirmed by 
a firman of Aurungzebe in 1680. Bombay, which had been coded by Portugal 
to Charles II. as part of the marriage portion of the Princess Catherine, was 
made over by him to the Company in 166S. Calcutta was founded in 1692 on 
the site of a village named Govindpore, and the possession receivetl an important 
increase in 1717, when the Mogul granted a patent enabling the English to pur- 
chase thirty-seven towns in the vicinity. Thia accession was obtained by the 



influence of another surgeon, a Mr. Hamilton, who had cured the Mogul of a 
dangerous disease. The system of uniting the separate factories under larger 
jurisdictions, named presidencies, was now fully established : Madras had been 
the eastern presidency from the middle of the century to 1682. when Bengal was 
separated; and Sural had held supremacy over the western coast from I6G0 
until 1687* when Bombay was made the head of all the establishments in India. 
By the end of the century the three presidencies^ Bengal, Madras, and Bombay, 
were distinguished as they stilL arc, with the exception that Bengal was not then 
the seat of the Supreme Government, a distinction which was given to it by an 
Act passed in i773» when Warren Hastings was made Governor-General. 

The Home Government of the Company consists of, 1st The Court of Pro- 
prietors, or General Court; 2nd. The Court of Directors, selected from the pro- 
prietors; and 3rd. The Board of Commissioners, usually called the Board of 
Control, nominated by the Suvereign. 

The Court of Proprietors, or General Court, as its name imports, is composed 
of the owners of India Stock. It appears that, in the seventeenth century, every 
stockholder had a voice in the distribution ol the funds of the Company : the act 
of 1693 provided that no person should vote in the General Courts who had less 
than 1000/. of stock, and that larger owners should have as many votes as they 
held thousands ; but that no jierson should have mure than ten votes. The 
qualification for one vote was, by the act of I3th April, 1659, lowered to 5C0/., 
and the number of votes limited to five, which was the nutnber allowed to a 
holder of 4000; stock. By the actof ."^th September, 16^8, every owner of 500/. 
stock was allowed one vote, and the greatest owners had no more. By the law 
now in force, which was made in 1773, the possession of 1000/. gives one vote, 
although per-ons having only 500/. may be present at the Court: 3000/. entitles 
the owner to two votes, 6000/. to three, and 10,000/. to four votes. All persona 
whatever may be membersof this Court, male or female, Englishman or foreigner. 
Christian or unbeliever. The Court of Proprietors elects the Court of Directors, 
frames bye-laws, declares the dividend, controls grants of money exceeding GOO/., 
and additions to salaries above 200/. It would a]i]tear that the executive power 
of this Court, having been delegated to the Court uf Directors, may be considered 
as extinct; at all events it never now interferes with acts of government, although 
instances have formerly occurred where acts of the Court of Directors have been 
revised by it. Its functions in fact are deliberative : they are like those of in- 
fluential public meetings in the English constitution, and its resolutions are sup- 
posed to be respectfully attended to by the Directors, and even by the Legisla- 
ture. It is always called together to discuss any proceedings in Parliament 
likely to affect the interests of the Company. It may, at any time, call for copies 
of public documents lo be placed before the body for deliberation and discussion ; 
and IB empowered to confer a public mark of approbation, jiecuniary or other- 
wise, on any individual whose services may appear to merit the distinction, sub- 
ject however to the ai)probation of the Board of Control, in cases where the sum 
shall exceed 60O/. 

The meetings of this Court have much the appearance of those of the House 
of Commons, and its discussions are conducted by nearly the same rules 






TTie Chairman of the Court of Directors presides ex-officio, and questions 
are put thruu^h him as through the Speaker. There is occasionally a display 
of eloquence which would not disgrace the Senate, though more frequently per- 
haps the matters debated are hardly of sufficient general interest to produce so 
much excitement. Amendments are proj^osed, adjournments are moved, the 
previous question ia put, the Court rings with cries of " Hear, hear," ** Oh, oh !" 
&c &c., and a tedious speaker is coughed down as elfectually as he would be on 
the floor of the House of Commons. At the conclusion of a debate the question 
u often decided by a show of hands ; but if any Proprietor doubts the result, he 
may call for a division, when tellers are appointed, and the Court divides ac- 
cordingly. In especial cases any nine members may cadi for an appeal to the 
gpeneral body of Proprietors, to whom timely notice is sent, and the vote is by 
ballot. The meetings alwa\s take place at twelve o'clock, and generally close 
at dusk : in cases of great interest they are much later, and in a recent instance 
the debate continued until two o'clock in the following morning. The number 
of members of the Court of Proprietors, in 1843, is 1880, of whom 333 have two 
votes, 04 three, and 44 four votes. In 1825 there were 2003 proprietors. In 1 773, 
nrhen all owners of stock amounting to 500/. had each one vote, and none had a 
plurality, thenumberofproprietors was 2153, of whom 812 held stock to the amount 
of more than iOOO/. each. The interest taken by the public in Indian afiairs was 
much greater then than is the case at present, and the proceedings of the Court 
of Proprietors, as described by one who has made the affairs of India his study, 
were "stormy and even riotous— the debates indecently virulent." He adds: — 
" All the turbulence of a Westminster election, all the trickery and corruption 
of a Grampound election, disgraced the proceedings of this assembly on ques- 
tions of the most solemn importance. Fictitious votes were manufactured on a 
gigantic scale."* It is said that during Clive's visit to his native country, in 
1763, he laid out a hundred thousand pounds in the purchase of India stock, 
which he then divided among nominal proprietors whom he brought down at 
every discussion ; and other wealthy persons did the same, though not to aa 
eqaal extent. The whole of the Directors were at this period appointed annu- 
ally. At present each Director is elected for four years, and six retire yearly, 
and are not re-eligible until they have been a year out of oOice. The chairman 
and deputy chairman are elected annually, and generally the deputy becomca 
chairman after being a year in the deputy-chair. They are the organs of the 
Cuurt, and conduct all communication requiring a personal intercourse with the 
Ministry and Board of Commissiuners. It is believed that by far the greater 
share of the labour of the Court falls on the chairs ; and that, great as is the pa- 
tronage connected with the ofHces, they are by no means objects of ambition to 
the majority of the members. 

The functions of the Court of Directors pertain to all matters relating to 
India, both at home and abroad ; subject to the control of the Board of Com- 
miBsioners, and, in some cases, to the concurrence of the Court of Proprietors, 
with the exception always of such high political matters as require secrecy, which 

• • Edinburgh Hcrieir/ No. 141 



are refeiTod to a select committee of their body. This Court has the power to 
nominate the Governors of all the Presidencies, subject to the approval of the 
Crown. They have also the patronage of all other appointments, without con- 
trol from the Board. The Committee of Secrecy, first appointed in ]784, consists 
of three members of the Court, who receive the directions of the Board on sub- 
jects connected with peace, war, or negotiations with other powers, and send dis- 
patches to India under their directions, without communication with the rest of 
the Court. This Committee also receive dispatches from India sent in the 
Secret department, and communicate them immediately to the Board. The 
duties of the Court of Directors arc extensive, and for their ready disjiatch it is 
divided into three Committees, whose de{jartments are indicated by their appel- 
lations : — the Finance and Home Committee ; the Political and Military Com- 
mittee; and the Revenue, Judicial, and Legislative Committee. 

The Board of Control, whose proper designation is '* the Board of Commis- 
sioners for the AiTairs of India," was established by the Act of 1784. The Board 
is nominated by the sovereign : it consists of ;m unlimited * number of members, 
all of whom, except two, must be of the Privy Council, and must include the two 
principal Secretaries of State and the Chancellor of the Exchequer. Praclically, 
all the Commissioners are honorary, except three, who alone are paid. All the 
members of the Board vacate olhcc upon changes of ministry, but the unpaid 
ones are often re-appointed. The Board receive from the Court, and may con- 
firm, alter, or disallow all minutes, orders, and dispatches; they may not only 
keep back dispatches prepared by the Court, but may comi)pl (he Court to send 
others prepared without the Court's concurrence. They have access to all 
Looks, papers, and documents in the East India House, and may call for accounts 
on any subject. They communicate with the Secret Committee, and direct it to 
send secret dispatches to India, the responsibility resting with the Board. In 
fact, since the abolition of the trade, ^vith which the Board had nothing to do, 
the Court of Directors must be considered simply as the instrument of the 

The routine of business as transacted between the Court and Board is simple. 
On the receipt of a dispatch from India, it is referred to the Committee in whose 
j)rovincc it lies, and from it to the proper department; the chief of which causes 
a draught of a reply to be made under his superintendence, which he first sub- 
mits to the Chairs ; the Chairman brings the draught before the Committee, by 
whom it is considered and approved, or revised, and then laid before the Court 
The draught is there discussed, and, when approved, sent to the Board. If the 
Board approve the draught, it is returned, and dispatched forthwith by the 
Court: if altered, the alterations may become a subject of correspondence and 
remonstrance with the Board, with whom, however, the final decision lies. If 
the Chairs judge that any serious discussion is likely to arise upon any dispatch, 
they make, unofficially, a previous communication to the Board, and the matter 
is discussed before it is laid before the Court. 

Since the functions of the Company have become wholly political, the esta- 



''^ ware limited to six by Uie Aot of I7M, but UiU cUuw wo* rFt««letl In 1793. 





blishment at l)ie East India House is neressarily much reduced from what it was 
when, in addition to other duties, it had the direction and control of commercial 
concerns which required the constant employment of nearly four thousand men in 
it« warehouses. Before the closing of its trade the number of clerks of all grades 
was above four hundred. • This number was not more than was really necessary. 
The duties of no public oOice in England can give a fair notion of what was 
required at the East India House, from the circumstance that the latter was a 
compendium of all the offices of government, including a department for the 
transfer of stock ; and was in addition a great mercantile establishment. The 
departments were necessarily numerous. The military department superintended 
the recruiting for the Indian army, the embarkation of troops for India, the 
management of military stores, &c. There was a shipping department and 
master-attendant's office, whose functions are obvious from their appellations : 
an auditor's office to conduct all financial matters relative to India— a sort of 
Indian exchequer. The examiner's office managed the great political concerns 
of the Company. There were an accountant's office, a transfer office, a trea- 
sury, to investigate all matters relating to bills and certificates granted in India, 
China, or elsewhere on the Company, and to compare advices with bills when 
presented ; to prepare estimates and statements of stock, Stc. lor the Lords of 
ihc Treasury, the Parliament, and the Courts ; to conduct all business relating 
to the sale and transfer of stock ; to provide for the payment of dividends and of 
interest on bonds, to negotiate loans, to purchase bullion, and to manage sales of 
specie from India or China. The office of buying and warehouses managed the 
whole of the trade, both export and import* its functions were to prepare orders for 
India and China produce so as to suit the homemarkeU, and to provide goods here 
for sale in India and China ; to superintend the purchase and export of military 
stores, and to manage the business of fifteen warehouses, employing nearly four 
thousand men, and in the article tea alone containing oficn fifty millions pounds 
weight (above 22,000 tons!) The Committee, of which this was the chief office, had 
also the superintendence of the sales. The value of goods sold in the year 
1834-5 amounted to 5,089,77/. Those of tea were the most extensive, and they 
are yet remembered with a sort of dread by all whohad anything to do with them. 
They were held only four times a-year— in March, June, September, and Decem- 
ber; and the quantity disposed of nt each sale was in consequence very large, 
amounting on many recent occasions to 8J millions of pounds, and sometimes 
much higher ; they lasted several days, and it is within our recollection that 
1,200,000 lbs. have been sold in one day. The only buyers were the tea-brokers, 
composed of about thirty firms; each broker was attended by the tea-dealers 
who engaged his services, and who communicated their wishes by nods and 
winks. In order to facilitate the sale of such large quantities, it was the prac- 
tice to put up all the teas of one quality before proceeding to those of another; 
snd to permit each bidder to proceed without much interruption so long as he 
confined his biddings to the variation of a farthing for what was technically 

* A Forlianxntery docunicnt of IRAS {pvM the mnnber of )>ent>nt in the bo<n» ntablubmflnt at 494, at ularic* 
■notnttng tn 134,164/. TUis iuclodci door-portcn, fire-lighten, watchmen, ninHtig*n, &c The niimbn- of 
dslu nam id tbi Umm ii about l&O. 


called the upper and under lot; but as won as he began to waver, or that it 
appeared safe to advance another farthing, the uproar became quite frightful to I 
one unaccustomed to it. It often amounted to a howling and yelling which 
might have put to shame an O. P. row, and, although thick walls intervened, it 
frequently was heard by the frequenters of Leadenhall Market. All this uproar, I 
which would induce a stranger to anticipate a dreadful onulaught, was usually 
quelled by the finger of the chairman pointing to the next buyer, whose biddings 
would be allowed to go on with comparative quietness^ but was sure to be sue- ■ 
cceded by a repetition of the same noise as at first. At the indigo sales much 
the same sort of scene took place. 

The above and several minor departments usually kept the establishment fully I 
engaged ; and, though there were days in which a smaller body might have done 
the current work of the House, there were many in which the whole force of the 
establishment was absolutely necessary. The mere reading through, and com- 
menting on, the voluminous explanatory matter received from the Indian Govern- 
ments, in addition to the dispatches, was no small labour. Of such matter there 
were received, from 17'J3 to 1813, 9094 large folio volumes, or 433 per annum ; 
and from that year to IS29 the number was 14.414, or 776 a-year. Facility in 
composition is as necessary a qualidcation in public men in India, as speaking 
to a politician at home ; and it has been observed that, while the latter is often too 
much of a talker, in India he is rather too much of an essayist Testimony to 
the industry and ability of the East India clerks was borne by Mr. Cunning, in a 
debate on the Hth March, 1822. This statesman, who had been several years 
President of the Board of Commissioners, said, " He had seen a military dispatch 
accompanied with 199 papers, containing altogether 13.511 pages; another, a ■ 
judicial dispatch, with an appendage of 1937 pages; and a dispatch on the reve- ^ 
nue, with no fewer than '2588 pages by its side. Much credit was due to the 
servants of the East India Company. Thepai)ers received from them were drawn 
up with a degree of accuracy and talent that would do credit to any ofHcc in the 
State. The Board could not, with all the talents and industry of the President, 
the Commissioners, or their tried Secretary, have transacted the business 
devolved upon it, without the talents and industry with which that business was 
prepared for them at the India House." J 

We shall conclude with a description of the East India House. It does not ' 
appear to be ascertained where the Company first transacted their business, but 
the tradition of the House is, that it was in the great room of * The Nag's Head 
Inn,' opposite Bishopsgate Church, where there is now a Quakers' Meeting 
House. The maps of London, constructed soon after the great fire, place the 
India House in Leadenhall Street, on a part of its present site. It is probably 
the house, of which an unique plate is preserved in the British Museum, sur- 
mounted by a huge, square built mariner, and two thick dolphins. In the Inden- 
ture of Conveyance of the Dead Stock of the Companies, dated 22nd July, 1702, 
we find that Sir William Craven, of Kensington, in the year 1701, leased to the 
Company his large house in Leadenhall Street, and a tenement in Lime Street, 
for twenty-one years, at 100/. a-year. Upon the site of this house what is called 
the old East India House was built in 1726; and several portions of this old 


House yet remain, although the present front, and ^cat part of tho house, \rere 
vlded, in 17^, by Mr. Jupp. 

[OU E«rt IdUU Houk. ITM.] 

The fa<jadc of the existing building is 200 feet in length, and is of stone. The 
portico is composed of six large Ionic fluted columns on a raised basement, and 
it gives an air of much magnificence to the whole, although the closeness of the 
street makes it somewhat gloomy. The pediment is an emblematic sculpture 
by Bacon, representing the Commerce of the East protected by the Bang of 
Great Britain, who stands in the centre of a number of figures, holding a shield 
■Iretched over them. On the apex of the pediment stands a statue of Britan- 
nia: Asia, seated upon a dromedary, is at the lefl corner; and Europe, on 
horseback, at the right 

The ground floor is chiefly occupied by court and committee rooms, and by 
the Directors' private rooms. The Court of Directors occupy what is usually 
termed the * Court Room,' while that in which the Court of Proprietors assemble 
is called the ' General Court Room.' The Court Room is said to be an exact cube 
of 30 feet : it is splendidly ornamented by gilding and by large looking-glasses ; 
and the eifcct of its too groat height is much diminished by the position of the 
windows near the ceiling. Six pictures hang from the cornice, representing tho 
three Presidencies, the Cape, St. Helena, and Tellichery. A fine piece of 
sculpture, in white marble, is fixed over the chimney : Britannia is seated on a 
globe by the seashore, receiving homage from three female figures, intended for 
Asia, Africa, and India. Asia offers spices with her right hand, and with her left 
leads a camel ; India presents a large box of jewels, which she holds half open - 
wad Africa resta her hand upon the head of a lion. The Thames, a« a river-giHl, 



stands ujion the shore; a labourer appears cording' a large bale of merchan-" 
disc, and ships are sailiiijr in Ihe distance. The v/hole is supported by two cary- 
atid figures, intended for brahminSj but really fine old Europeandooking philo- 

The General Court Koom, which until the abolition of the trade was the Old 
Sale Room, is close to the Court llooin. Its east side is occupied by rows of 
seats which rise from the floor near the middle of the riHjm towards the ceiling, 
backed by a gallery where the public are admitted : on the floor arc the scats for 
the chairman, secretary, and dorks. Against the west wall, in niches, arc six 
statues of persons who have distinguished themselves in the Compan3''s service : 
Lord Clivc, AVarrcn Hastings, and the Marquis Cornwallis occupy those on the 
left, and Sir Eyre Coole, General Lawrancc, and Sir George Pococke those on the 
right. It is understood that the statue of tlie Marquis WcUcsley will be placed 
in the vacant space in the middle. The Finance and Home Committee Room 
is the beat room in the house, with the exception of the Court Rooms, and is 
decorated with some good pictures. One wall is entirely occuj>icd by a represent- 
ation of the grant of the Dewanncc to the Company in 1765, the foundation of all 
the British power in India; portraits of Warren Hastings and of the Marquis 
Cornwallis stand beside the fireplace ; and the remaining walls are occupied by 
other pictures, among which may be noticed the portrait of Mirza Abul Hassan, 
the Persian Envoy, who excited a good deal of attention in L< ndon in the year 

The upper part of the house contains the principal oiftces and the Library 
iind Museum. In the former is perhaps the most splendid collection of Oriental 
MSS. in Europe, and, in addition, a copy of almost every printed work relating 
to Asia : to this, of course, the public is not admitted; but any student, properly 
recommended, is allowed the most liberal access to all parts of it. We may 
instance, as worthy of all imitation, where buildings contain articles of value, that 
large tanks, always full of water, stand upon the roof of the building, and that 
pipes, with stoi)-cock8, extend from them to all parts of the house, so arranged 
that, in case of fire, any of the watchmen connected with the establishment can at 
once deluge that part with water enough to repel any apprehension of its spread- 
ing beyond the spot. 

The opening of the Museum at the India House to the public once a-week, ou 
Saturdays, from eleven to three, is a creditable act of liberality on the part of 
the Directors. The rooms appropriated to this purpose arc not a continuous 
suite, but a passage leading from one suite to another contains paintings, 
prints, and drawings, illustrative of Indian scenery and buildings; also models 
of a Chinese war-junk, a Sumatran ])roa, together with a few objects of natural 
history, as remarkable sijecimma of bamboo, &e. This passage leads to three 
small side-rooms, the first of which contains a Burmese musical instrument, 
shaped somewhat like a boat, and having a vertical range of nearly horizontal 
strings, which were probably played by means of a ploclrum, or wooden peg. 
Opposite is a case illustrative of the state of the useful arts in India, containing 
models of looms, ploughs, mills, smiths' bellows, coaches and other vehicles, 
windlass, pestle and mortar, &c. This room also contains 8|tccimens illustrating 








J^e Ml ,-uni.] 

tnc manufacturing processes of Oriental nations, witli some objects of natural 
history. The next room is wholly devoted to natural history. In the third room 
there is another curious Burmese musical instrument, consisting of Iwcnty-thrce 
flattish pieces of wood, from ten to fifteen inches in length, and about an inch 
and a half in width : these bars arc strung together so as to yield dull and sub- 
dued musical notes when struck with a cork hammer ; and their sizes are so ad- 
justed as tu furnish tones forming about three octaves in the diatonic scale. At 
the end of the corridor is a tolerably large room, containing a number of glass 
catee filled with specimens of Asiatic natural history*. There are Indian, Siamese, 
and Javanese birds, Sumatran and Indian mammalia, besides butterflies, moths, 
beetles, and shells. In another room arc sabres, daggers, hunting knives, pipes, 
bowls, models of musical instruments, serving to illustrate some of the usages of 
the inhabitants of Java and Sumatra. The Library, in another part of the 
building, is also partly appropriated as a Muacum. The Oriental curiosities in this 
department comprise, among other things, specimens of painted tiles, such as arc 
used in the Kast for walls, iloors, ceilings, &c., Bhuddist idols, some of white 
marble, others of dark stones, and some of wood. There are many other objects 
connected with the religion of Bliudda. as parts of shrines and thrones, on which 
processions and inscriptions are sculptured, and a large dark-coloured idol repre- 
sents one of the Bhuddic divinities. In the centre of this room arc three cases 
containing very elaborate models of Ckincsc villas, made of ivory, mother-of- 
pearl, and other costly materials ; and from the ceiling is suspended a largo and 
highly -decorated Chinese lantern, made of thin sheets of horn. 

There are a few glass cases, which contain various objects worthy of notice. 
There is an abacus, or Chinese counting-machine. Chinese implements and lua- 



teriala for writing, for drawing, for engraving on wood, and for printing ; also 
Chinese weighing and measuring machines, a Chinese mariner's compass, Sycee 
Bilver, the shoe of a Chinese lady, and various Chinese trinkets. There are spe- 
cimens of tea, in the form in which it is used in various parts of the East — that 
is, in compressed cakes. On a standi on the floor, is placed a childish piece of mu- 
sical mechanism, which once belonged to Tip]>oo Sultan : it consists of a tiger 
trampling on a prostrate man, and about to seize him with his teeth. The inte- 
rior contains pipes and other mechanism, which, when wound up by a Vcy, cause 
the figure of the man to utter sounds of distress, and the tiger to imitate the 
roar of the living beast.* In passing to another apartment, which forms also a 
part of the Library, we enter a small ante-room, which is occupied by a splendid 
howdah, or throne, part of it of solid silver, adapted for the back of an ele- ■ 
phant, in which Oriental princes travel: it was taken by Lord Combermere at 
Bhurtpore. The walls of this room are covered with weapons and arms used by 
different Oriental nations. The next room, filled chiefly nnth books, contains, 
however, several curiuus objects : here are Tippoo Sultan's * Register of Oreams.' 
with the interpretation of them in his own hand ; and the Koran which he was in 
the habit of using. A visit to this Museum is certainly calculated to render im- 
pressions concerning the East more vivid and striking. ^ 

• .Sw (he ciit iti prMfdiDg pKgv. — The con*Injictinn of the whole machine u very mde, and it !■ probably loudl 
oilier thftn the age of Ti|i)xiu. The machinery, tliong-h nut uf neat workmaiuhip, u limpte aiid iiigcuunu iu cod* 
bivance. There is a haiiiLle mi the animal's sluiuUler which tumi a spmdle ami craiilc withiu the body, and ii 
made to appear as one of tlte block ilripes of tbe tk'ia. To thij crank ii fastened a wire, which rises and falls by 
turnin){ tlic ciank : the wire panes down from the tiger bt!tween his fore-jiaws Into the mail's chest, whcrv it worki 
a pair of bellows, which fccce* the air tlirDUgh a pipe with a sort of whistle, terminating in the nion's nioulb. Th« 
pipe is covered by the man's hand ; hut at the mommt when, by the acHon of the crank, lh« air is forced through 
t)if pipe, a 9lring leading from the bellows pulls a small lever connected with the arm, which works on a hinge at 
the elbow ; the arm rises in a manner which tlie artist intended tn show supplication ; the hand is liAed from llw 
mouth, and a cry is heard : the cry is repented as ofttn as the handle is turned ; and while this process ii going 
on, an endleu screw on the sliaft turns s worm-wlieel slowly round, which is fumliheJ with fuitr levers or wipcri; 
each of these levera allemalety lifts up another and larger pair of Mtuws in the head of the tiger. >Vben hy tba 
action of one of these four levers tlie belliiwa are ]iftc<l up to their full hright, the lever, in continuing to ttim, 
passes by the bellows, and ttie upper bojinl being loadfid with a large piece of lead, falls down ou a sudden and 
forces ihc air violently through two lond-tooed pipes terminating in the animal's mouth, and diflVting by tba 
interrol of a fifth. This produces a harsh growl. The man in tlie meantime continue his screaming orwIiHtiflgf 
■ndf Jtiet a dc^on cries, the growl U r);j«Mit«d, 



{OulldWL, aUwl ITiLl.J 



It may appear at first glance a curious circumstance that the ^oatcst events of 
which the edifice above-named has been the scene should be those which have 
had the least direct connection with its g^cneral objects or character. Instead of 
the election and banqueting of a Mayor, the repression oF some new system 
of swindling ; or — what to some would seem to be almost synonymous — of some 
new proposition of municipal reform, each alike, figuratively speaking, stirring 
the ver)' hair of civic heads with horror; or, lastly, instead of an inquiry into 
tome delectable police case, the principal matters that now agitate Guildhall^ or 
draw public attention towards it, — we find here, in former times, sceptres changing 
haniJs, new religions proscribed, and their disciples sent to martyrdom, trials of 
men who would have revolutionised the state, and who might, by the least turn 
of Fortune's wheel in a different direction, have changed places in the court with 
those who sat there to decide upon their lives^ or rather to destroy them in 
accordance with a previous decision — the more common slate of things in our old 
crown prosecutions. But the connection of such events with Guildhall was not 
so remote, still lcs»ao accidental, as it seems. Without trenching upon the proper 
history of the latter, which belongs to another paper, we may here observe that 
when Guildhall was the concentrating point towards which^ in all matters affect* 
tng the independence, prosperity, and government of Loudon^ the intellect, wealthy 

VOL. V. F 


and numerical strength of London genciully systematically tended, it is evident 
that no place throughout England was so favourable for those royal and political 
manoeuvres of whiih the historical recollectioas of Guildhall furnish such me- 
morable examples. If Gloster wishes to be Icing, it is to Guildhall that he 
first sends the wily Buckingham to expressly ask the suffrages of the people: if 
the bigoted council of the savage Henry determine to express in some exceed- 
ingly decisive manner their abhorrence of the spreading doctrines of the Refor- 
mation, and of the error of supposing that because Henry favoured tlicm when 
he wanted a new wife, that he still did so when unable to think of anything but 
his own painful and disgusting sores, it is at Guildhall that the chosen victim — 
a lady, young, beautiful, and learned — receives her doom : if Mary would damage 
the Protestant cause whilst trying Protestant traitors, or James, the Catholic, at 
a similar opportunity, Guildhall is still the favourite spot. Whatever the effect 
sought to be produced, it was well known that success in London was the grand 
preliminary to success elsewhere. 

It was on Tuesday, the 24th of June, 1483, that the citizens were seen flocking 
from all parts towards the Guildhall, on some business of more than ordinary 
import. Edward IV. had died a few weeks before, and his son and successor was 
in the Tower, under the care of his uncle, the Protector, waiting the period of 
his coronation. Doubt and anxiety were in every face. The susjiicious eagerness 
shown to get the youthful Duke of York from the hands of his mother in the 
Sanctuary at Westminster, the almost inexplicable death of Hastings in the 
Tower, the severe ptmance inflicted on Jane Shore, the late King's favourite 
mistress, and the sermon which followed that exhibition on the same day, the 
preceding Sunday, at Paul's Cross, where the popular preacher. Dr. Shaw, spoke 
in direct terms of the illegitimacy of the young Princes, and of the right noble- 
ness of their uncle, all produced a growing sense of alarm as to the future inten- 
tions of the ]>rinc!pal actor. Gloster. As they now entered the hall, and 
pressed closer and closer to the hustings, to hear the Duke of Buckingham, who 
stepped forth to address them, surrounded by many lords, knights, and citizens, 
it was not long before those intentions, startling as they were, became sufficiently 
manifest. *' The deep revolving, witty Buckingham*' seems to have surpassed 
himself that day, in the exhibition of his characteristic subtlety and address. 
Commencing with a theme ^vhich found a deep response in the indignant bosoms 
of his listeners, the tyrannies and extortions of the late King (which the Londoners 
bad especial reason to remember), he gradually led them to the consideration of 
another feature of Edward's character, his amours, which had, no doubt, caused 
many a heart-burning in the City domestic circles, and thence by an easy transi- 
tion to his illegitimacy ; Buckingham alleging that the late King was not the 
son of the Duke of York, and that Richard was. To give confidence to the 
citizens, he added that the Lords and Commons had sworn never to submit to a 
bastard, and called upon them accordingly to acknowledge the Protector as King. 
The answer was— dead silence. The confident orator and bold politician was 
for a moment " marvellously abashed," and calling the Mayor aside, with others 
who were aware of his objects, and had endeavoured to prepare the way for them, 
inquired " What meaneth this that the people be so still ? " '* Sir," replied the 
Mftyor, " perchance they perceive [understand] you not well." " That we shall 




ftxncnd,'* said Buckingham ; and " therewith, somewhat louder, rehearsed the same 
matter again, in other order and other words, bo well and ornately, and never- 
theless so evidently and plain, with voice, gesture, and countenance so comely 
and so convenient, that every man much marvelled that heard him ; and thought 
that they never heard in their lives so evil a tale so well told. But were it for 
wonder or fear, or that each looked that other should speak first, not one worU 
was there answered of all the people that stood before ; but all were as still as 
the midnight, not so much rouning [speaking privately] among them, by which 
they might seem once to commune what was best to do. When the Mayor saw 
this, he, with other partners of the council, drew about the Duke, and said that 
I the people had not been accustomed there to be spoken to but by the Kccorder. 
Pl»hich is the mouth of the City, and haply to him they will answer. With tha,* 
the Recorder, called Thomas Fitzwilliam, a sad man and an honest, which was 
but newly come to the office, and never had spoken to the people before, and 
loth was with that matter to begin, notwithstanding thereunto commanded by 
the Mayur. made rehearsal to the commons of that which the Duke had twice 
purposed himself; but the Recorder so tempered his talc that he showed every- 
thing as the Duke's words were, and no part of his own ; but all this no change 
made id the people, which alway after ouc stood as they had been amazed.*' 
Such a rece])tion at the outset might have turned some men from their purpose 
altogether— not so Buckingham, who now, after another brief converse with the 
Mayor, assumed a different tone and bearing. " Dear friends," said he to the 
citizens, " we come to move you to that thing which, pcrad\ enturc, we so greatly 
needed not, but that the lords of this realm and commons of other parts might 
have sufficed, saying, ^uch love we bear you, and so much set by you, that we 
would not gladly do without you that thing in which to be partners is your weal 
and honour, which, as to us secmeth, you see not or weigh not ; wherefore we 
require you to give us an answer, one or other, whether yc be minded, as all the I 
nobles of the realm be, to have this noble Prince, now Protector, to be your 
King?' It was scarcely possible to resist this appeal by absolute silence. So, 
** at these words, the people began to whis])cr among themselves secretly, that 
the voice was neither loud nor base, but like a swarm of bees, till at the last, at 
the nether end of the hall, a bushmcnt of the Duke's servants. and one Nashfield, _ 
and others belonging to the Protector, with some prentices and lads that thrusted I 
into the hall amongst the press, began suddenly, at men's backs, to cry out as loud 
as they could, ' King Richard ! King Richard !' and then threw up their caps ia , 
token of joy, and they that stood l)€fore cast back their heads marvelling thereat^ f 
but nothing th&y said. And when the Duke and the Mayor saw this manner, 
they wisely turned it to their purpose, and said it was a goodly cry and a 
joyful to hear every man uifJi one voice, and no man saying nay." This scene, so 
graphically described by Hall (from Sic T. More), would form one of the richest 
bits of comedy, were it not for the tragic associations which surround the whole. 
As it is, one can scarcely avoid enjoying the perplexity of Buckingham and the 
Mayor at the unaccountable and most vexatious silence, or the backward look of 
the people at the lads and othei-s, who at last did shout, or without admiring the ■ 
tact and impudence of Buckingham in acknowledging with a grave face, and \ 
in grateful words the cry that was at once so goodly, joyful, and so very unani* 

'2 J 


mouB. It will be perceived how closely Shaksjtere has followed the account here 
transcribed, in the third act of his Richard III.; and as is usual with him, by so 
doing, made the passage scarcely less interesting, as illustrating him^ than for its 
own historical value. 

Passing from the craft and violence which formed the two steps to power 
during so many ages, and of which the incident narrated, with its well-known 
concomitants, furnishes a striking example, we find, but little more than half a 
century later, new trains of thought and action at work among men. high passions 
developed, struggles taking place for objects which by comparison make all the 
intrigues and feuds of rival and aspiring nobles appear contemptible, and main- 
tained with a courage unknuwn tu the days of chivalry. The Reformation came ; 
and sufficiently terrible were its first effects. Division and strife extended 
throughout the land. By a kind of poetical justice. Henry himself, who drew 
the gospel light from BuUen's eyes, was fated in later years to see an emanation 
from that light come in a much less pleasing shape, namely, in the disputatious 
glances of his wife Catherine Parr, who. as he grew more helpless and impatient, 
ventured to engage in controversy with him, and had well nigh gone to the scaf- 
fold for so doing. And though she escaped, a victim was found 8u(£cicntly dis- 
tinguished to gratify the inhuman and self-willed tyrant, who burned people not 
so much on account of their having any particular religion, aa the daring to reject 
the one he proposed, or to keep it when accepted, if he altered his mind. This 
was Anne Askew, a young lady who had been seen very busy about court distri- 
buting tracts among the attendants of the Queen, and heard to speak vehemently 
against the Popish doctrine of transuhstantiation. She was the daughter of Sir 
William A8ke^,of Kelsey, in Lincolnshire, and the wife of a neighbouring gen- 
tleman named Kymc, a violent Papist, who turned her out of doors when, after 
long study of the Bible, she became a Protestant. She then came to London to 
sue for a separation, and was favourably noticed, it is supposed, by the Quceut 
and certainly by the ladies of the court. But neither Henry uor his council, 
including such men as Bishop Bonner and the Chancellor Wriothesley, were to 
be quietly bearded thus. Anne Askew, as she called herself, was arrested, and 
carried before Bonner and others. Among the questions put to her was one by 
the Lord Mayor, inquiring whether the priest cannot make the body of Christ? 
Her reply was very striking : *• I have read that God made man ; but that man 
can make God I never yet read." However, some sort of recantation was ob- 
tained from her, probably through the natural and graceful timidity of her youth 
and sex overpowering for the moment, in the j>rcBence of bo many learned and 
eminent men, the inherent strength of her convictions. Such triumphs, however, 
are of brief duration. Anne Askew was discharged, but quickly apprehended 
again, and, after examination by the Privy Council, committed to Newgate. Her 
next public appearaneo was at Guildhall, where she was condemned, with some 
more unfortunates, to death for heresy. And now this poor, solitary,, but bravo 
and self-possessed woman was subjected to treatment that makes one blush for 
human nature. The grand object of the Council was, it appcara, to find what 
ladies of the court they could get into their toils, since the Queen herself had 
escaped them. So after a vain attempt made by Nicholas Shaxton, the fonner 
Bishop of Salisbury, to induce her to imitate his example, and save her life hj 




apostacy, for which atteniiil he got in answer the sutcmn assurance that it had 
been better for him if he had never been burn, she was carried to the Tower, and 
examined as to her connexions at court. She denied that she had had any, but 
wai told the Kinjf knew better ; and then followed a question that shows the pri- 
vations she had already been intentionally exposed to : How had she contrived to 
get food and comfort in prison if she had no powerful friends? " My maid," 
said Anne, " bemoaned my irrctched condition to the apprentices in the street, 
and some of them sent me money, but I never knew their names." It was pro- 
bably at this period of the examination that she was laid on the rack, and that 
Wriothesley and Rich, having both applied their own hands to the instrument, 
obtained an admission from her that a man in a blue coat had given her maid tin 
shillings, saying they came from Lady Hertford, and another time a man in a viokt 
coat eight shillings from Lady Denny ; but as to the truth of the statements she 
could say nothing, and constantly persevered in her assertion that she had not been 
supported by these or any of the Council. To the eternal honour of her sex, it 
is understood that no amount of anguish could wring anything more from her, 
and in consequence Henry and the Council were compelled to be content with 
the victim they had. So, whilst still unrecovered from the effects of the rack. 
she was hurried off to Smithficld on the 16th of July, 1546, and chained with 
three others to stakes. Near them was a pulpit, from which poor Shaxton, as if 
not already sudiciently humiliated, was chosen to preach. At the conclusion 
of his discourse, a pardon was exhibited for the whole if they would recant; but 
there was no such stuff in their thoughts : Anne Askew and her companions died 
as heroically as their own hearts could have ever desired they should die. 

rMnr*vnlnqi or Anr A»kf-' and mhcThl 

After all, martyrdom, it must be acknowledged, is not a picaiant thing; and 
wc need not wonder that, through the ]>eriod extending from the reign of 



Henry VIII. to that of James T., bo many indications present ibemselves of Pro- 
testants and Catholics alike changing passive endurance for active warfare, and 
determining that it was as easy to run the risk of conviction for treason as for 
heresy, with a much greater prohability of improving their position by succcai. 
As to each party, whether in power or not, applying its own dislike of the flames, 
its own sense of the monstrous injustice of such influences, its own knowledge of 
their incfBcacy, to the case of the other, no such supposition seems to have been 
conceivable in the philosophy of the sixteenth centur)'. So, burnings, plots, and 
insurrections follow each other ia rapid succession through this terrible period, 
disturbing even the comparative repose of Elizabeth's brilliant reign. Two of 
the most striking of these events belong to the history of Guildhall — the one 
arising out of Sir Thomas \Vyatt*8 attempt against the Catholic Mary, and the 
other from the Gunpowder Plot, destined to overthrow the Protestant James : 
each, we may add, forming one of the most interesting featnres of the altogether 
interesting history to which it belongs. Sir Nicholas Throckmorton, himself a 
Protestant, was the son of a zealous Papist, Sir George Throckmorton, who 
had refused to take the Oath of Supremacy, and been imprisoned in the Tower 
many years by Henry. On his release in 15i;J, Nicholas, his son, received the 
appointment of Sewer to the King, and, having accompanied the latter in the 
French expedition, was rewarded by a pension for his services. During the reign 
of Edward VI. he still further distinguished himself by his conduct at the battle 
of Pinkie (or Mussclbu^gh)^ and rose still higher in kingly favour. Edward 
knighted him, received him into close personal intimacy, and, besides making 
him under-trcasurer of the Mint, gave him some valuable manors. Everything, 
therefore, concurred to deepen the impression in favour of Protestantism made 
first on his mind, no doubt, by study and conviction. How little inclined Throck- 
morton was to interfere with the ordinary laws of legitimacy and succession to the 
crown under ordinary circumstances, may be inferred from his conduct at tho 
rommencemcnt of Marys reign. He was present at Greenwich when Edward 
died ; and, although aware of the designs of the friends of Lady Jane Grey, 
towards whom, as a Protestant, his sj-mpathies must have tended, yet he did not 
hesitate to depart immediately for London, and dispatch Mary's goldsmith to 
her with the intelligence of her accession. It is evident, therefore, that when, 
only a few months later, we find him on his trial for treason, he must, supposing 
the charge to have any truth in it, have experienced some great disappointment 
as to the policy he had hoped to have seen pursued, or some new event must 
have occurred utterly unlookcd for, and most threatening to the Protestant 
interests. Such^ no doubt, seemed, to a large portion of the nation, the marriage 
of Mary with Philip of Spain, one of tho most inexorable bigots in religious 
matters that ever existed, and whose power seemed to be almost as ample to ac- 
complish as his temper and fanaticism were prompt to instigate the destruction of 
the new faith wherever his influence might extend, and who did destroy it in the 
Spanish peninsula, however signal his failures elsewhere. Ono little incident 
tells volumes as to Philip's character. Whilst present at an anto-da-fe, when 
forty persons were marching in the horrible ])rocc8sion towards the stake, to 
which they had been sentenced by the Inquisition, one of the poor creatures 
called out as he passed the King for Mercy 1 mercy t " Perish thou, and all like 




thee/' WM Ihe reply: **ifmy own son were a heretic, I woold deliver him to the 
flames." Such was ihc man whom the Protestants of England hoards with 
nalnral terror, was about to be connected by the closest ties to the country, and 
enabled to exercise the most direct influence on its government: for no man in 
his senses could place any reliance upon the promises of non-interference, non- 
innovation, &c., which were to be exacted as guarantees for the national freedom. 
If we add that the Catholics themselves, rising above the narrow views so com- 
mon at the period, and looking at the alliance as Englishmen rather than as 
Catholics, disliked it, what must have been the feelings of their religious oppo- 
nents? The answer is to be found in the insurrection which broke out within a 
few days after the intelligence of the conclusion of the treaty of marriage be- 
came generally known. Sir Thomas Carcw took arms in Devonshire, and 
obtained possession of the castle and city of Exeter, whilst Sir Thomas Wyatt 
threatened from a still nearer locality, Kent. Their objects appear to have been 
very uncertain, even among themselves. There can be little doubt, however, 
that if they had succeeded, Mary would have been dethroned ; for how else could 
ihey be sure they would not lose all they had gained, and probably their lives 
into the bargain ? Equally doubtful does it seem as to the party who would 
have taken the vacant seat If Elizabeth was concerned in the scheme, as it still 
aeems very probable she was, there can be no doubt as to her views on the ques- 
tion : but, on the other hand, the movement seems rather to have inclined in 
favour of Lady Jane Grey ; for, not only docs the early attack on the Tower, 
where she had been confined from the time of her relatives* attempt to make her 
queen on the death of Edward, seem to intimate as much, but it is hardly to be 
conceived that, for any less personal ad\-antagc, the selfish and unprincipled 
Duke of Suffolk, Lady Jane Grey's father, just released from an apparently 
inevitable death on account of the said attempt, would have joined in a j\ew 
one. Modern political tactics no doubt explain the whole. The parties acted 
together to meet the one evil which threatened all, leaving the after measures to 
be determined by chance, or by the intrigues, skill, and power of the individuals 
who might rise most prominently out of the combination, and turn the whole to 
their or their party's benefit. And if the most consummate tact and unfailing 
courage, joined to entire dcvoledncss, could at such a crisis have secured the crown 
to Elizabeth, Sir Nicholas Throckmorton would have been the man to hare 
accomplished that task. Attachment to her was, indeed, most probably the cause 
of the great prominence given to the trial of a man who had taken no public 
part whatever in the insurrection, and of the exceeding bitterness and zeal with 
which such charges as could be brought together against him were pressed. In 
the whole range of criminal proceedings, it would be difficult to find a more 
exciting trial than the one we are now about to describe, which commenced on 
the 1 7th of April, 1054, only six days after his friend Wyatt's execution. Our 
readers, in order to do justice to Throckmorton's wonderful eloquence, adroitness, 
and self-possession, must remember that a state trial had long been little else 
than a legal stepping-stone to the scaffold, and that now the appetite for blood 
was unusually sharpened by the imminent danger from which Mary had escaped. 
Wo must premise that it is to the dramatic character of the proceedings, as 
reported by Holinshcd at great length, that the trial owes its chief attractions 



for a reader, and tlierefore to abridge the more important passag^es would 'he to 
destroy their vital spirit. Wc must, then, transcribe such of these as our 
space will admit in their integrity, with the addition merely of a few brief con- 
necting remarlfs. The roll of the judges on the bench shows the importance 
attached to the trial by the government, and, for any man but Throckmorton, the 
overwhelming amount of learning and intellect coming ready prepared to con- 
vict, not to try him. It comprised, besides Sir Thomas White (the lord mayor), 
the Earls of Shrewsbury and Derby, the Recorder and others,- — the Lord Chief 
Justice Bromley; the Master of the Rolls, Sir N. Hare; a Judge of the Queen'a 
Bench, Sir W. Portman ; and a Judge of the Common Pleas, Sir E. Saunders ; 
together with the two Serjeants, Stamford and Dyer; and the Attorney General 
Griffin. At the very commencement of the trial, before pleading, Sir Nicholas 
endeavoured to make some observations, which were stopped as informal, but 
which led to a spirited discussion, that thus early showed the spirit of the prisoner, 
and gave promise of the unprecedented struggle that was al>out to take place. 
This slopped, a weightier matter was handled. After some little private whisper- 
ings between the Attorney-General and the Recorder as to the jurymen, who, it 
was feared, apparently, might not be packed with an eye !o entire harmony of 
views, and a further whispering between the Altorney-Genertil and Serjeant 
Dyer, the latter challenged two of their number, and when the prisoner asked 
the reason of the challenge, replied he did not need to show cause. ■• I 
trust," was the impetuous outburst of Sir Nicholas, '* ye have not provided for 
me this day as formerly I knew a gentleman used, who stood in the same place 
and circumstances as I do. It chanced that one of the Judges being suspicious 
that the jirisoncr, by reason of the justice of his cause, was like to be act|uilted, 
said to one of his brethren, when the jury appeared,' I do not like this jury — they 
are not 6t for our purpose — they aeem to have too much compassion and charity 
to condemn the prisoner.' ' No, no,* said the other Judge, Gholiiiley by name 
\_the RecorUir, then sitting on the i^/icA], ' I' 11 warrant you they arc fellows 
picked on purpose, and be shall drink of the same cup his fellows have done." 
I was then a spectator of the pageant, as others are now of me; but now, woe is 
me ! I am an actor in that woeful tragedy. Well, as for those and such others 
like them, the black ox hath lately trodden on some of their feet :* but my trust 
is. I shall not be so used.** The very man, however, so appositely referred to — 
Cholmley — continuing to confer with the Attorney-General as to the jury, Sir 
Nicholas called out, " Ah, ah ! Master Cholmley, will this foul packing ucvtr 

'* Why, what do T, I pray you, Master Throckmorton? I did nothing, I am 
sure. You do pick quarrels with me." 

'* Well, Master Cholmley. if you do well, it is better for you, God help you." 
The jury were now sworn, and Sergeant Stamford stepped forward to state the 
ease for the prosecution, when Sir Nicholas again interposed with a most im- 
pressive adjuration to the Sergeant not to exceed his office, and then the trial 
commenced. The charges in effect were that Throckmorton was a principal du- 
viscr, procurer, and contriver of the late rebellion, which was sought to be jirovcd 

• •' In thit npmBian Tbrockmorton inobiMf rafert to Cholmley, who Iiad bem impruoDtd fi>r Mmi* linip «■ 
UpiciuD of favouriDg ibe iM&y Jaue Giry.**— Nota by iba Editor uf the ' Crimiual TriAli^* vul. J. p. 6y, 





by the written depositions and examinations of parties, mostly lying at the time 
under a danger similar to that of the prisoniT, and some of whom, as Wyatt, had 
been executed; for such was the wretched state of the criminal law at the time. 
The chief allegations brouo;ht before the court in this way were, that Throck- 
morton had corresponded with Wyatt just before the insurrection; that he had 
erigdjfcd to accompany Courteney, Earl of Devonshire, into the west of England ; 
that he had invited Carew and Wyatt to advance when thev were in arms ; and, 
above all, that he had conspired to kill the Queen with William Thomas, Sir 
Nicholas Arnold, and others. Passing over the long but every where interesting 
portion of the trial in which the first three points formed the subject of inquiry, 
and through which Sir Nicholas fought his way step by step, allowing no fact to 
be taken for more than its worth (we might almost say lessening its actual value}, 
exposing every attempt to twist the law unduly against him, showing the value- 
less character of the evidence obtained from men who might think their own lives 
depended upon the success of their evidence against his ; we pause awhile at the 
fourth, as the part best calculated to display the spirit of the two parties, and the 
general conduct of the trial. The examination of Sir Nicholas Arnold being read, 
which stated that Throckmorton told him that John FitzwilUams was very much 
displeased with William Thomas, the Attorney-General remarked, alluding, we 
presume, to the general facts detailed in the examination, which Ilolinshed 
does not give, " Thus it ap| ears that William Thomas devised that John Fitz- 
williams should kill the Queen, and Throckmorton knew of it." 

" I d»ny that I said any such thing to Sir Nicholas Arnold/' replied the 
prisoner; *' and though he is an honest man, he may either forget himself, or 
devise means how to rid himself of so weighty a burden as this is, (or he is 
charged as principal : this I perceived when he charged me with his talc ; and 
therefore I blame him the less for it. that he endeavours to clear himself, using 
me as witness, to lay the contrivance at the door of William Thomas. But truly 
1 never said any such words to him ; and the more fully to clear the mutter, 
I saw John Fitzwilltams here just now, who can bear witness he never told mo 
of any misunderstanding between them ; and as I knew nothing at all of any 
misunderstanding, so 1 knew nothing of the cause. I desire, niy lords, he may 
be called to swear what he can as to this affair." Then John Fitzwilliams drew 
to the bar, and offered to depose his knowledge of the matter in open court. 

AUornt-y- General. "1 pray you, my lords, suffer him not to be sworn, nor to 
speak ; we have nothing to do with him." 

Sir Ntchi}tnjt Throckaiorivn . '* Why should not he be suffered to tell the truth? 
and why are you not so willing to hear truth for me, as falsehood against me V* 

Sir S. Harf. *' Who called you hither, Fitzwilliams, or bid you speak / You 
are a very busy fellow." 

Sir Nicholfu Throckmorton. " I called him, and humbly desire he may speak 
and be heard as well as Vaughan [a witness, and the only one, who had been 
called personally against him], or else I am not indifferently used, especially as 
Mr. Attorney doth so press this matter against me.** 

Sir U. SyuthweH. " Go your way, Fitzwilliams, the court has nothing to do 
with you ; pcradventure you would not be so ready in a goo<l cause." 

And so John Fitzwilliams went out of the court, and was not suffeicd to speak. 


H is probable, however, that this rejection of evidence affected the prisoner's in- 
terests with the jnry at least as favourably as the evidence itself could have done 
if heard. And Throckmorton look care to press the consideration directly homo 
to them. " Sinc€»" said he, " this gentleman^s declaration may not be admitted, 
I hope you of the jury will take notice, that this was not for any thing he had to 
say Against me, but, on the contrary, for fear he should speak for me. Now as to 
Master Arnold's deposition against mc, 1 say, I did not tell him any such words ; 
so that, if Ihcy were material, there is but his Yea and ray Nay for them. But 
that the words may not be so much strained against me, I pray you, Mr. Attorney, 
why might I not have told Arnold that John Fitzwilliams was angry with William 
Thomas, and yet not know the cause of the anger? Who proves that I knew 
any thing of the design of William Thomas to kill the Queen ? No man ; for 
Arnold says not one -word of it, but only that there was a difference between 
them ; and to say that implies neither treason, nor any knowledge of treason. 
Is this all the evidence you have against me, in order to bring mc within the 
compass of the indictment?" 

.S*T^. Stamford. " Mcthlnks those things which others have confessed, together 
with your own confession, will weigh shrewdly. But what have you to say as to 
the rising in Kent, and Wyatt's attempt against the Queen's royal person in her 
palace ?'* 

Chief Justice Bromley, "Why do you not read to him Wyatt's accusation, which 
makes him a sharer in his treasons?'^ 

Sir Ji, SouthweU. " Wy alt has grievously accused you, and in many things which 
have been confirmed by others." 

Sir N. Throckmorton, " Whatever Wyatt said of mc in hopes to save bis lift*, 
he unsaid it at his death ; for, since I came into the hall. I heard one say, whom 
I do not know, that Wyatt on the scaffold cleared not only the Latly Eli£al>eth 
and the Earl of Devonshire, but also all the gentlemen in the Tower, saying none 
of them knew any thing of his commotion; of which number I take myself to be 

Sir N* Hare. " Nevertheless, ho said that all he had written and confessed 
before the Council was true." 

Sir N. Thrttckmovton. ** Nay, sir, by your patience, Wyatt did not say so : that 
was Master Doctor's addition." 

Sir R. Souihtcell. " It seems you have good intelligence." 

Sir N. Throckmorton. " Almighty God provided this revelation for me this very 
day, since I came hither ; for I have been in close prison for ejght-and-fifty days, 
where I could hear nothing but what the birds told me, who flew over my head." 

The law of the lawyers fared no better in Throckmorton's grasp than their facts. 
After a rapid and masterly review of. and answer to, all that had been alleged 
against him, he took up new ground, namely, that according to the only two 
statutes in force against treasons, he could not, even if guilty, be attainted within 
the indictment. These statutes he now desired to be read. 

Chief Justice Bromley. " No, there shall be no books brought at your desire : 
we know the law sufficiently without book." 

Sir N. Throckmorton. *' Do you bring me hither to try mc by the law, and will 
not show mc the law? What is your knowledge of the law to the satisfaction of 







these men, who have my trial in hand. Pray, my lord, and my lords all, let th» 
■t&totos be read, as well far the Queen as for me." 

Serij. Stamford. ** My Lord Chief Justice can tell what the law is, and will do 
it, if the jury arc doubtful in any particular." 

Sir N. Throckmorton. " You know it is but reasonable that I should know and 
hear the law by which I am to be judged ; and forasmuch as the statute is in 
Knglish, people of less learning than the judges can understand it, or how else 
should we know when we offend ?'* 

Sir A'. Hare. " Vou know not what is proper for your case, and therefore wc 
must inform you. It is not our business to provide books for 3*ou; neither do 
we sit here to be taught by you : you should have been better informed of the 
law before you came hither." [Our readers will do well to Veep this remark in 
Tiew, in order properly to enjoy what follows.] 

Sir M Throrkmorlnn. ** Because I am ignorant I would learn, and therefore I 
hare the more occasion to see tho law, partly for the instruction of the jury, and 
partly for my own satisfaction ; which methinks would be for the honour of the 
court- And now, if it please you, my Lord Chief Justice, I do principally direct 
my words to you. When the Queen was pleased to call you to that honourable 
office, I did learn of a great man, and one of her Majesty's Privy Council, that 
her Majesty, among other good instructions, charged and enjoined you to ' admi- 
nister the law and justice impartially, and without respect of persona. And not- 
withstanding the old error among you, which did not admit any witness to speak, 
or any thing else to be heard, in favour of the adversary, where her Majesty was 
a party, it was her Highness's pleasure that whatever could be produced in favour 
of the subject should be admitted to be heard ; and further, that you in a parti- 
cular manner, and likewise all other judges, were not to consider that you sat in 
judgment otherwise for her Majesty than for her subjects." Therefore this method 
of impartiality in your proceedings being principally enjoined by God's command, 
■a I designed to have reminded you at Hrst, if I could have had leave to do it, 
«od the same being also given in command to you from the Queen's own mouth, 
I think you ought in justice to allow mc to have the statutes openly read, and to 
reject nothing that could be spoken in my defence : in so doing, you shall approve 
joarBclvcs worthy ministers of justice, and fit for so worthy a mistress." 

Chit/ Justice Bromley. ** You mistake the thing; the Queen said those words 
to Morgan, Chief Justice of the Common Pleas : but you have no reason to com- 
plain, for you have been suffered to speak as much as you pleased." 

.Sir A'. Hare. *' What would you do with the statute-book 7 The jury do not 
require it ; they have heard the evidence, and they must upon their consciences try 
whether you are guilty or not; so that there is no need of the book ; if they will 
not believe such clear evidence, then they know what they have to do." 

Str R. Cholmify. '* You ought not to have any books read here at your ap- 
pointment; for if any question arises in point of law, the judges are here to inform 
tho court ; and now you do but spend time." 

Altorney -General. " My Lord Chief Justice, I pray you to sum up the evidence 
for the Queen ; and give the charge to the jury ; for the prisoner will keep you 
here all day.*' 

Chif/Justice Bromley. " How say you, have you any more to say for yourself?" 



Sir N, Throrlcmorton. " You seem to give and offer me the law, but in very 
deydl I have only the form and image of the law: nevertheless, since 1 cannot have 
the statutes read openly in the book, / triil, uith your lem^e, guess at them as well 
as I can ; and I pray you to help mc if I mistake, for it is long since 1 have seen 
them." He then went on to point out, reciting the passage in question cerbafirn 
that the Statute of Repeal, made in the last Parliament, had referred all trcas<in- 
ablc offences to the statute 25th Edw. III., the essential part of which he also cor- 
rectly repeated, and that that required a man to be "attainted by open deed, by 
people of his condition;" he then, turning to the jury, continued: "Now, I pra/ 
you of the jury, who have my life in trial, mark well what things at this day arc 
treasons ; and how these treasons must be tried and detected ; that is, by ' opco 
deed,' which the law duth sometime call an overt art. And now 1 ask. beside my 
indictment, which is but matter alleged, where does the 'open deed' of my eoui-l 
passing and imagining the Queen's death appear ? or where docs any * ojien deed ' 1 
appear of my adhering to the Queen's enemies, giving them aid and comfort .' orj 
where does any ' open deed ' appear of taking the Tower of London ?" 

< hief Justice Bromley. ** Why do not you, who are the Queen's learned counsel, 
answer him ? I think, Throckmorton, you need not to see the statutes, for you 
have them pretty perfectly." After this appeal, which one could almost fane/ 
exhibited a latent sense of enjoyment on the part of the Chief Justice of the 
dilemma which seemed opening upon the lawyers, there ensued a long and i 
spirited discussion on the meaning of the words of the statute, in which, to the fl 
evident mortification of the lawyers, the man who should have been " better in- ^\ 
formed" before became there, disputed every point of law with such depth of i 
legal learning as well as intellectual subtlety, that they were fain to bring the ^| 
whole strength of the bench against him, with what success we must give " 
one further illustration. As a closing proof that the law admitted of the 
conviction of traitors apart from the statute of Edward, and in answer to 
some case brought forward by the prisoner, which very strongly demanded an 
answer, the Lord Chief Juslice stated that a man, in the time of Henry IV., was 
adjudged a traitor, and yet the fact did not come within the express words of the 
said statute. "I pray you, my Lord Chief Justice,*' was the instantaneous and 
crushing answer, '' call to your good remembrance, that in the selfsame case of 
the Seal, Judge Spclman, a grave and well-learned man, since that time, would 
not condemn the offender, but censured the former judgment by your Lordship 
last cited, as erronemis.'' The Chief Justice was silenced, whilst Sergeant Stum- 
ford could not help remarking, in the bitterness of his spirit. " If 1 had thought 
you were so well furnished with book cases, I would have come Vietter pre- 
pared for you." One other extract, a passage of the truest and perfectly un- 
studied eloquence, and we have done. Being about to offer another argument 
to answer the assumption, which the lawyers now returned to, as safer ground, 
that VVyatt's actions, taken in connexion with Throckmorton's presumed cog- 
nizance, proved the latter to be an adviser and procurer, Sergeant Stamford told 
him the Judges did not sit there to make disputations, but to declare the law; and 
one of those Judges (Hare) having confirmed the observation, by telling Throck- 
morton he had heard both the law and the reason, if he could but understand it, 
he cried out passionately. *' Oh, merciful God ! Oh, eternal Father! whuseest all 






things, what manner of proceedings arc these? To what purpose was the statute 
of repeal made in the last Parliament, wlicrc I heard some of you here present, 
and several others of the Queen's learned counsel, grievously invcijjh against the 
ciniel and bloody laws of Henry VIII., and some laws made in the late King'* 
time f Some termed them Draco's laws, which were written in blood ; other* 
said ihey were more intolerable than any laws made by Dionysius or any other 
tyrant. In a word, as many men. so many bitter names and terms those taws. 

Let us now but look with impartial eyes, and consider thoroughly 

with ourselves, whether, as you, the Judges, handle the statute of Edward III., 
wjlh your equity and constructions, we are not now in a much worse condition than 
when we were yoked with those cruel laws. Those laws, grievous and captious 
as they were, yet had the very projjcrty of laws, according to St. Paul's descrip- 
tion, for they admonished us. and discovered our sins plainly to us, and when a 
man is warned he is half armed ; but these laws, as they arc handled, are very 
baits to catch us, and only prepared fur that purpose ; they are no laws at all : 
for at first sight they assure us that we arc delivered from our old bondage, and 
live in more security ; but when it pleases the higher powers to call any man's 
life and sayings in question, then there are such cunstrucLiuns. interpretations, 
and extensions reserved to the Judges and their equity, that the party tried, as I 
now am. will find himself in a much worse case than when thosu cruel laws were 
ID force. But I require you, honest men, who are to try my life, to considL-r 
these things : it is clear these Judges arc inclined rather to the times than to the 
truth; for their judgments arc repugnant to the law, repugnant to their own 
principles, and repugnant to the opinions of their godly and learned pre- 

After a summing up hy the Judge, in which Sir Nicholas had to help his 
" bad memory " as to the answers given to the charges, and after a most solemn 
address to the jury by the latter, the case was left to them — the final 

(judges, fortunately, of the matter, as they were the only ones in whom the pri- 
soner could have had any hope from the commencement of the trial. As tliey 
wete dismissed, Throckmorton, whom nothing escaped, who was as shrewd and 
•agacious one moment as impressive and irresistible the nt-xt, through the whole 
proceedings, took care to demand that no one should have access to the jury. 
What terrible hours must those have been that now elapsed before the return of 
the jury into the court! — but at last they came. After the usual preliminary 
form, followed the momentous question. '* How say you? is Sir Nicholas Throck- 
morton, knight, the prisoner at the bar. guilty of the treason for which he has 
^K been indicted and arraigned 7 Yea or no ? '* 
^K foreman. ** No." 

^P The t<ord Chief Justice would fain have frightened the jury into another 
^^ verdict; and when that did not succeed, began to consult with the Commissioners, 
bat Sir Nicholas gave them not a moment, steadily but respectfully reiterating his 
demand for his discharge ; and at last it was given. Thus ended the most 
interesting trial perhaps on record, for the exhibition of intellectual power. The 
jury wore not allowed to escape unpunished ; imprisonment and fmes fell heavily 
npoo them, for daring to do what they had the absurdity to believe they were 

t placed there to do— decide according to their cunscicncej even though it were iji 
% State prosecution. 



The trial of Garnet, before alluded to, though deeply interesting in itself, and 
fltill more important in a political sense than Throckmorton's, would read but 
ilally after the latter; the .Teauit. with all his double-dealing and wily caution, 
fell into a trap at which Throckmorton would have laughed. A brief record of 
the case, therefore, as a whole, will be at once more attractive and suitable to 
our remaining space. When the Gunpowder Plot first frightened the isle from 
its propriety, and alarmed James to that degree that the veritable explosion, 
had he escaped, could hardly have increased the consciousness of the wrongs 
he had done to the Catholics, and which they sought to avenge by so monslroug 
and wholesale an act of slaughter, coupled with the instincts of cruelty and 
destruction, which the weak so often exhibit after danger, seem to have 
wrought greatly upon his mind, and to have induced him not to remain content 
with the lives of the conspirators, and their aiders and abettors, taken though 
they were in a mode, and to an extent, that reduces the Government of the day 
to a level with the men it punished for barbarous inhumanity, but to strive 
also to fix upon the entire Catholic people the guilt of sharing in the conspi- 
racy. Again and again, therefore, did the Commission examine Fawkes and his 
companions, with the usual accompaniment of examinations in those days — 
torture, aided by the searching minds of Popham, Coke, and Bacon; and 
at last sufficient matter was extorted, chiefly from Bates, Catesby's servant, to 
warrant the issue of a proclamation for the apprehension of three priests — 
Gerard, Grcenway, and the Superior of the Jesuits in England, Garnet. The 
two former escaped to the Continent, whilst the latter, having sent a letter to the 
Lords of the Council, strongly asserting hia innoccjice, disappeared, and for a 
long time baffled all attempts at discovery. At last, Humphrey Littleton, con- 
demned to death at Worcester for harbouring two of the conspirators, in order to 
save his own life, told the sheriff that some Jesuits named in the proclamation 
were at Hendlip, a spacious mansion, about four miles from Worcester, which 
was only pulled down in the present century. It is to be regretted it is lost, not on 

;^H«iMtl>|> U»uM>, 1000.] 






»ecount of the interest attached to it by the romantic adventure we arc about to 
mention, but an a specimen of the buildings of the ago when concealment was too 
frequently necessary in order to escape from religious and political pcrscrutionB. 
" There is scarcely an apartment," says the author of the account of Worcester- 
shire (• Beauties of England and Wales *), who describes it as he himself saw it, 
" that has not secret ways of going in or going out ; some have back staircases 
concealed in the walls; others have places of retreat in their chimneys; some 
have trap-doors ; and all present a picture of gloom, insecurity, and suspicion.'* 
Thither, on receiving Littleton's information, went Sir Henry Bromley of liolt 
Castle, with elaborate instructions from Lord Salisbury as to the modes of 
search he was to adopt. For some time Sir Henry was perfectly unsuccessful. 
and, as he says, " out of all hope of finding any man or any thing," until he 
discovered " a number of Popish trash " hid under boards in three or four several 
places, which stimulated him to continue a watch, and, at last, two unhappy men 
c&me forth *' from hunger and cold/* one of whom it was thought was Green- 
way. With fresh vigour was the search now prosecuted, and o»c of the men. 
on the eighth day, discovering an opening into a cell not previously known, 
there came forth two more persons, both Jesuits, and one ot them the anxiously 
Bought-for Garnet. He was immediately conveyed to the Tower, where he was 
examined almost daily for ten days, but without any conclusive proof being fur- 
nished uf his own guilt, or the guilt uf the others named in the proclamation. 
Kspecial reasons of state seem to have saved Garnet from the torture, but his 
servant Owen and the other two Jesuits, Oldcorno and Chambers (who with 
Garnet made the four found at Hendlip), were not only tortured, but one of 
ihem (Owen) with such infamous severity, that the unhappy man ripped up his 
own body with a table-knife to escape any further infliction. A new scheme was 
now tried, worthy of the institution from which it had probably been derived — the 
Spanish In(|uisilion — and Garnet whs at once caught. He and Oldcornc were 
placed in adjoining ceils, and informed by the keeper, under strong injunctions of 
secrecy, that, by opening a concealed door, they might confer together. And 
here every day or two they met, their whole conversation at the mercy of two 
listeners, who made regular written memorandums of it for the Council. And 
thus was laid the groundwork of the great body of criminatory evidence subse- 
quently established against Garnet at Guildhall, where, in order, as both Lord 
Saiisbuf}' and Sir Edward Coke stated on the trial, to compliment the loyalty o( 
the citizens by so exemplary a display of Popish treason, the trial took place, on 
the 28th of March, IGOG; and ended in his conviction and execution, amidst a 
general feeling among the Catholics that he was a martyr This feeling was 
still more strongly called forth by the strange imposture known as Garnet's 
Straw. The history given by the presumed author of the imposture, Wilkinson, 
states that a considerable quantity of dry straw having been cast into the basket 
with Garnet's Iicad and quarters, at the execution, he standing near, found the 
straw in question thrown towards him — how, he knew not. " The straw," he con- 
Unnes, " I afterwards delivered to Mrs. N., a matron of singular Catholic piety, 
who enclosed it in a bottle, which being rather shorter than the straw, it became 
slightly bent A few days afterwards, Mrs. N. showed the straw in the bottle to 
a certain noble person, her intimate acquaintance^ who, looking at it attentively, 


at length said, ' I can see nothing in it but a man's face.' Mrs. N. and myself 
being astonished at this unexpected declaration, again and again examined the 
car of the straw, and distinctly perceived in it a human countenance/' &c. The 
prodigy excited universal attention, and led at last to a very prevalent belief 
among the Catholics at home and abroad that a miracle had been vouchsafed to 
prove the Jesuit's innocence. At first the appearance of the face was very simple, 
but, gradually, to accommodate the increasing demands ofwonder and superstitious 
belief, the whole expanded into an imposing-looking head, crowned and encircled 
by rays, with a cross on the forehead, and an anchor coming out of the ear at the 
sides. At last it engaged the aftcntion of the Privy Council, who cxj>08ed the 
fraud, and then very wisely IcU the matter to drop gradually into oblivion. 
Of the other events in what we may call this episodical history of Guildhall, there 
are but two possessing any high claims to recollection — the trial of the poet 
Waller, in the period of the Commonwealth, which we can only thus briefly refer 
to, and that of the poet Surrey, in the reign of Henry VIIL, which will be noticed, 
elsewhere. The building itself belongs to the municipal government of I^ondon, 
which wilJ tbrtn the subject of our next paper. 



[^{.'(juiiLil v'tuipiwr, UuUtlhftll.J 



LwTiQDABiES tell US that there was an ancient Saxon law^imposcd probably by 
the rulers of that people after the conquest of this country, the better to keep its 
urild and conflicting elements in order — which ordained that every freeman of 
fourteen years old should find sureties to keep the peace; and that, in conse- 
quence, " certain neighbours, consisting of ten families, entered into an asso- 
ciation, and became bound to each other to produce him who committed an 
offence, or to make satisfaction to the injured party. That they might the better 
do this, they raised a sum of money amongst themselves, which they put into a 
common stock, and when one of the pledges had committed an offence, and wav 
fled, then the other nine made satisfaction out of this stock, by payment of 
money according to the offence. In the mean time, that they might the better 
identify each other, aa well as ascertain whether any man was absent on unlawful 
business, they assembled at stated periods at a commou table, where they ate 
and drank together."* This primitive custom, so simple and confined in its ope- 
rations, was to beget mighty consequences in the hands of the amalgamated 
Anglo-Saxon people. We find its associating principle following them into the 
fortified places or burghs where they first assembled for the purposes of trade 

* Johiwoofl CukODi, Lftn of Ino, iniiscnoetl from Herbert'i > lAvtry Onaimtics,' vol. i. p. 9. 



ttnd commerce (the nuclei of our towns'!, and affording to them an infinitely aafet 
defence against aggression than any fortifications could give, in the Trade Guildx^ 
If, therefore, there be one of the g^eat and still existing institutions of anti- 
quity, possessing in its history matters of deeper interest and instruction than 
any other, it is that of our municipal government, whose very meeting-places 
constantly remind us by their designation what they were — the guild-halls, and 
what we owe to the system, which has, unfortunately, through causes into which 
it is not our province to enter, enjoyed of late years more of the popular con- 
tempt than of popular gratitude: a feeling which, if it promised to be perma- 
nent, might well excite the apprehension of tho ]>olitical philosopher as to the 
ultimate well-being of the country. All considerations, then, tend to invest the 
very word guildhall with a more than ordinary sense of the value of the associa- 
tions that may belong to a name, and which is of course enhanced when it refers, 
not merely to a hall of a guild, but to the hall of the guilds generally of the 
metropolis, as in that we are about to notice in connection with Civic Government. 
The building itself, as we now approach it from Cheapside, through King 
Street, appears no unapt type of the discordant associations that have grown up 
around the institution : the old hall, in the main, is there still, but with a new 
face, which shows how ludicrously inaduquate were its builders to accomplish their 
apparent desire of restoring it in harmony with, but improving upon, the gene- 
ral structure; and they seem to have had some misgivings of the kind them- 
selves ; for they have so stopped short in the elevation, as to leave the dingy 
and supremely ugly brick walls, with their round-headed windows, added by 
their predecessors to the upper portion of the hall after the fire of London, ob- 
trusively visible. It is possible that the *' little college " which stood here prior 
to the year HII, had been either in itself or in its predecessors founded by the 
Confessor, whose arms are yet visible in the porch ; at the time mentioned, the 
present hall was begun by the corporation, Thomas Knowles being then Mayor. 
Among the modes adopted of obtaining tho rcquitiitc monies, are some which, 
though common enough in connection with ecclesiastical structures, are remark- 
able as applied to a guildhall : Stow, whose authority is Fabyan, having remarked 
that the companies gave large benevolences towards the charges thereof, adds. 
"Also offences of men were pardoned for sums of money towards this work, ex- 
traordinary fees were raised, fines, amercements, and other things employed during 
seven years, with a [partial, probably is meant] continuation thereof three years 
more.'** Even then the whole was not completed; a variety of miscellaneous 
'terns of a later date occur in connection with the edifice, such as that in 
1422-3 the executors of Whittington gave 35/. towards the paving of the hall 
frith Purbcck marble ; about the same time was also erected the Mayor's Court, 
the Council Chamber, and the porch; in 1481, Sir William Harryot, Mayor, 
defrayed the expense of making and glazing two louvres in the roof of the hall , 
(he kitchen was built by the •' procurement'* of Sir John Shaw, goldsmith and 
Mayor, about 1501; finally, tapestry, to hang in the Hall on principal days, 
was provided about the same lime by Sir Nicholas Aldwyn, another Mayor. If 
we add to this, that a new council chamber M-as erected in 1614, that after tho 
Great Fire the walls remained so comparatively uninjured, that only roofs and 
out-offices had to be rebuilt, and that it was towards the close of the last century 

• ' Sarv^,' «d. lew, p. 284. 








that the " truly Goihi*^ facade," as Brayley satirically calls it, using the word in 
its less usual but suBiciently evident acceptation, was built, wc shall not need to 
dwell any longer on the general history of the erection. Before we enter the 
porch, we may cast a brief glance at the surrounding buildings. The one on the 
left is the JuHtice Room of Guildhall, where the ordinary magisterial business of 
that part of the City which lies west of King Street is conducted, under the super- 
intendence of an Alderman ; the other, or eastern portion^ forming the business of 
the Justice Room at the Mansion House, where the Mayor presides. The building 
opposite, on the rights contains the Courts of Queen^s Bench and Common Pleas, 
held, with the Court of Exchequer, at Guildhall three several da38 during each 
term, and on the nextday but one after each term, from time immemorial. The City 
receives Sjt. 6t/. for each verdict given in these Courts, in payment for the use of 
the buildings provided ; and there the connection ends at present, whatever may 
have been the case in former times, when the custom originated. In both courts 
the excessively naked and chilly aspect of the walls is somewhat relieved by the 
portraits of the judges, who, after the fire of London, sat at Clifford's Inn, to 
arrange all differences between landlord and tenant during the great business of 
rebuilding ; and who thus, as Pennant observes, prevented the endless train of 
vexatious lawsuits which might have ensued, and been little less chargeable than 
the fire itself. We wonder whether the judges or the legislature will ever take 
it into their heads to give us the blessing of such courts of reconciliation and 
summary determination of differences without a preliminary fire! Sir Matthew 
Hale was the chief manager of the good work in question, which so won upon 
the City, that, after the affiiir was concluded, they determined to have the por- 
traits of the whole of the judges painted and hung in their hall, as a permanent 
memorial of their gratitude. Lely was to have been the artist, but, being too 
great a man to wait upon the judges at their respective chambers, Michael 
Wright, a Scotchman, obtained the commission. He is the painter of a highly- 
eatcemed jjortrait of Lacy, the actor, in three characters, preserved in the 
collection at Windsor. Sixty pounds each was his remuneration for the portraits 
at Guildhall, and it certainly seems as much as they were worth. On the site 
of these Law Courts, there was standing, till the year 18*2*2, the chapel or college, 
shown in our engraving of the exterior of Guildhall, in the preceding number, 
which was built so early as 1299, and had, in its palmiest days, an establishment 
of a custos or warden, seven priests, three clerks, and four choristers. " Here 
used to be service once a week, and also at the election of the Mayor> and before 
the Mayor*8 feast, to deprecate indigestion and all ])lethoric evils"* — the chapel 
having been given by Edward VI. to the City at the dissolution of the college. 
Adjoining the chapel there had been, before Stow's time, " a fair and large 
library," belonging to the Guildhall and College, which that wholesale pillager, 
the Protector Soiuersct, laid his hands upon during the reign of the young Ed- 
ward, on the plea of merely borrowing the books for a time. In consequence, 
till the present century, the citizens of London, in their corporate capacity, had 
Karcely a book in their possession ; but in 1824, an annual grant of '200^, and 
a preliminary one of 500/., for the formation of a new library, was made; and 

Fenntat, (London,* ed. 1791, p. 419. 




the collection, already rich in publications in civic topography and history, pro- 
znisea to become, in course of time, not unworthy of the body to which it belorga. 
As we enter the porch the genuine architecture of the original structure strtRea 
upon the eye with a sense of pleasurable surprise. Its arch within arch, its 
beautifully panelled walls, looking not unlike a range of closed- up Gothic 
windows, the pillars on the stone seat, and the numerous groins that spring from 
them intersecting the vaulted ceiling; and, lastly, the gilt bosses, so profusely 
scattered about, all seem to have remained untouched — certainly uninjured — 
from the days of their erection, during the reign of Bolingbroke. They are, 
however, the only things here unchanged. A citizen of that period would be a 
little puzzled, we suspect, to understand, for instance, the long bills which bang 
on each side of the doors leading from the porch into the hall, containing a list 
of the brokers authorised by the Mayor and Aldermen to exercise their vocation 
in the City : the funded system would certainly be too much for him. We enter 
the hall, and it does not need many glances to tell us that it has been a truly 
magnificent place, worthy of the extraordinary exertions made for its erection, 
and of the City — we might almost say, considering its national importance, of 
the empire, to which it belonged. Nay, it is roagniBcent still, in spite of the 
liberties that hare been taken with it, such as closing up some of its windows 
with enormous piles of sculpture ; and above all, in spite of the miserable modern 
upper story, with its vile windows, and of the Hat roof, which has taken the 
place of the oaken and arched one, with its carved pendants, its picturesque 
combinations, and its rich masses of shade, such as we may be certain once rose 
from the tops of those clustered cohimns. But the vast dimensions (152 feet ia 
length. 50 in breadth, and about 55 in height), the noble proportions, and the 
exquisite architecture arc still there, and may possibly at no distant period lead 
to the restoration of the whole in a differen spirit from that which at once 
mangled and burlesqued it, under the pretenceof admiration, in the last century: 
already the restoring of the roof is talked of. The crypt below the Hall has 
been but little interfered with, and still shows the original design of the architect. 









The contents of the Hall are too well known to render any lengthened dcseription 
necessary; we raay therefore briefly observe, that they comprise in one depart- 
ment of art the monuments of the great men whom the City has delighted to 
honour, and in another the renowned giants Gog and Magog. Among the 
former is that of William Bcckford, Esq., who so astonished George III. by 
addressing him against all courtly precedent, on receiving the unfavourable 
answer vouchsafed by the monarch to the Remonstrance of the City on the 
subject of Wilkes's clcctiou ; and so delighted the citizens, that they caused this 
memorial to be erected after his death, which is said to have been accelerated by 
the excitement of the times acting upon ill health. The others are Lord Nelson's, 
the Right Hon. William Pitt's, and his father's, the Earl of Chatham ; the last 
by Bacon, the only one that seems to us deserving even of criticism. Allan 
Cunningham says, an eminent artist remarked to him one day, "See, all is 
reeling — Chatham, the two ladies [Commerce and Manufacture], the lion, the 
boys, the cornucopia, and all the rest, have been tumbled out of a waggon from 
the top of the pyramid." There certainly never was, in the history of art, men 
capable of such great things making such melancholy mistakes as our modern 
sculptors in a large proportion of their more ambitious productions. Tho 
author of the strange Jumble here so justly satirized is also the same man of 
whom Cowper no less justly says— 

" B&con there 
Givn more than female beauty to a stone, 
And Chatham 8 eloquence to marble lips:** 

referring, in the last line, either to the chief figure on this very monument, or to 
that on Bacon's other Pitt memorial in Westminster Abbey. Tho inscriptions on 
the monuments of Nelson and the two Pitts seem to have called forth the literary 
powers of our statesmen in a kind of rivalry : Burke wrote the Earl of 
Chatham's, Canning William Pitt's, and Sheridan Nelson's. The fine old crypt 
beneath the Hall, extending through its entire length, is in such excellent pre- 
jcrvation that we cannot but regret some endeavour is not made to restore it to 
the light of day. As it is, what with the rise of the soil on the exterior, and tho 
blocking up of windows, we can only dimly perceive through the gloaming the 
pillars and arches which divide it lengthwise into three aisles. Some of the uses 
of the great civic hall are well known. On the dais at the east end are erected 
the hustings for the parliamentary elections of the City of London. The Cor- 
poration banquets are also given here ; and their history from the time Sir John 
Shaw — excellent man! — built the kitchen, in 1501, down to the visit of her 
present Majesty, would furnish rich materials for an essay on the art and science 
of good living, fur that the latter is both, cooks and aldermen unanimously agree. 
The most mafrnificent of these feasts seems to have been that of 1814, after the 
OYrrthrow of Napoleon, when the chief guests were the Prince Regent, the Em- 
peror of Russia, and the King of Prussia, when the dinner was served entirely on 
plate, valued at above 200,000/., when all the other arrangements were conducted 
oo ft correspondingly sumptuous scale, and when, in a word, tho expenditure was 
cs^timated at 25.000/. On some occasions the Guildhall banquets have had an 
historical interest attached to them. A good dinner, it is well known, is often 
the readiest and most efiTectual way of opening an Englishman's heart. Charles I,, 


: rtiu UiUl J 

ftcling upon this maxim, dined with the citizens just at that critical period of 
his history when a recourse to arms must have appeared to all thoughtful minds 
the only ultimate solution of the contest between him and the people. The long 
Parliament had met; Strafford had been arrested, tried, and executed: the city 
exhibiting its srntiments with regard to that nobleman, while his fate was yet un- 
decided, by presenting a petition for justice against him, signed by 20,000 citizen*. 
To arrest these and other similarly dangerous symptoms was, therefore, an object 
of the highest importance. The banquet took place on the very day of the Icing's 
return from Scotland, the 25th of November, 1641, the corporation having come 
out to meet him on the road. Its conduct was> of course, marked by every pos- 
sible indication of external respect, and Charles took care to return their compli- 
ments in a truly royal manner. When the Lord Mayor, Recorder, and others met 
him, in the Kingsland road, with an address, he made a very gracious reply, in 
which he told them, that he had thought of one thing as a particular affection to 
them, which was the giving back unto the city that part of Londonderry (Ireland), 
which had been formerly evicted from them ; and, in conclusion, he knighted both 
the Lord Mayor — Acton, and the Recorder. Then they all went on together in 
stately procession to Guildhall, where the dinner gave such high satisfaction to 
their Majesties (the Queen being also present) that, after it was over, Charles 
sent for Mr. John Pettus, a gentleman, says Maitland, of an ancient family in the 




county of Suffolk, who had married the Lord Mayor's daughter, and knighted 
him too. The royal visitors were then conducted to Whitehall, where his Majesty 
could not jiart with the Lord Mayor till he had most graciously embraced and 
thanked him, and charged him to thank the whole city in hia name. Whether 
enough had not been done yet to soften the harshness of the city politics, and in 
despair farther efforts were made, or whether the first move was so successful 
that everything might be hoped for from a second of a like kind, we know not ; 
but whatever the cause, not many days elapsed before the Mayor received a 
patent of baronetcy instead of the knighthood so recently conferred (he was a 
new Mayor, be it remembered, the 9th of November having only just passed) ; 
and when a deputation of the citizens, consisting of the Mayor and certain Alder- 
men, with the Sheriffs and the Recorder, went to Hampton Court lo thank their 
Majesties for all favours, and to ask them to winter at Whitehall, &c., Charles 
agreed to Iheir request, and " after his Majesty had ended his answer, and that 
Mr Recorder and Sir George Whitmoro had kissed his royal hand, the next 
alderman in seniority kneeled down to receive the like princely favour, when 
suddenly and unexpectedly his Majesty drew a sword, and instead of giving him 
his hand to kiss he laid his sword upon his shoulder and knighted him; the iikc 
be did to all the other aldermen and the two sheriffs, being in number seven;** 
whilst as an appropriate conclusion, we presume, to so much princely favour, 
'* his Majesty commanded tliat they should dine before they left the court.*" 

The annual feast in Guildhall, on Lord Mayor's Day, is but the suitable close 
to the general business of the installation of the new chief magistrate, which 
takes place the day before, and to the somewhat tedious honours involved in the 
pageantry of the procession. The twenty-six Aldermen, and two hundred and 
forty common-councilmen of the City, have seen with their own eyes that the 
existence of the Corporation has not been endangered by the bare presumption of 
any momentary lapse as to its possession of a head ; in other wordsj they have 
seen the Lord Mayor elect and the Lord Mayor in possession sitting side by side, 
and then changing chairs; and the public have had their share of the enjoyment 
attached to the event, namely, the gilded coach and the men in armour ; and now 
all parties, except the public, sit duwn comfortably to enjoy themselves after their 
toils, still further solaced by the fair faces and radiant eyes which glow and 
sparkle in every direction : the concentrated loveliness of the civic domestic world, 
which these occasions, with a few others of a more accidental character, as a fancy 
Dall for the benefit of the Poles, alone adequately reveal to us. The election of 
the Mayor takes place on the preceding t!9th of September, and the electors arc 
the liverymen of the several companies met in Common Hail, as it is called. 
To these the crier reads a list of Aldermen, in the order of seniority, who have 
served us sheriff (who alone are eligible), and who have not already passed the 
chair of mayoralty. In ordinary cases the tirst two persons named are accepted, 
but the Livery, if it pleases, may depart from that order, or even select those in 
preference who have already been elected and served. If the decision of a show 
of hands be not accepted, a poll is taken, which lasts seven days. The two 
names finally determined upon are announced to the Mayor and Aldermen by the 
Common Sergeant ; these also generally select the senior Alderman^ but mny 

• UwlUod, vol I p. 34^34«. 


reject him, as in a recent instance, for the other. The person elected then de- 
clares his acceptance of the office (rejection subjects him to a fine of ICOO/.), 
and the l.ord Mayor, Recorder, Sheriffs, and Common Sergeant, retnrning to 
the Hall, declare the result, and proclamation accordingly is made. Tbere re- 
mains but to present him to the Lord Chancellor, in order to receive his assent 
on the part of the Crown to the election ; to administer the usual oaths before 
the Mayor and Aldermen on the morning of the 8th, after which the proceedings 
before alluded to take place ; and lastly, the presentation to the Barons of the 
Exchequer, when he is again sworn, a custom that is an interesting memento of 
the state of things after the Conquest, when the chief municipal officers were 
the parties appointed by the king as the instruments of his pecuniary exactions. 
and who, when, in lapse of time, again elected by their respective municipalities, 
were sworn to pay duly into the Exchequer the crown rent then accepted in lieu 
of the former uncertain and arbitrary imposts : London had two of these officers, 
called bailiffs, and paid 300/. yearly. 

The mummeries and sensual enjoyments which seem to round in and to form 
■o large a portion of London municipal life has had one bad effect, which is as 
much to be regretted for the sake of its chief officers themselves, as for the insti- 
tution : they have turned aside the public attention, not merely from the capa- 
cities of the one, but have made it estimate very inaccurately the real nature 
and amount of the services performed by the other. Looking at it as a whole, 
it would be difficult to find a more arduous and responsible position than that of 
the mayoralty of London. Consider for a moment the Mayor's duties. He pre- 
sides at the sittings of the Court of Aldermen, both in their own and in what ts 
called the Lord Mayor's Court, at the Court of Common Council, and at the 
Common Hall. He is Judge of the Court of Hustings, which, however, does 
not make any extensive demands upon his time ; a Judge of the Central Criminal 
Court, and the same of the London Sessions held at Guildhall. He is a justice 
of the peace for Southwark, where he usually opens the Sessions^ and continues 
subsequently to preside. He is eschcator in London and Southwark, when 
there is anything escheatablc, not a matter now of very frequent occurrence. 
He is conservator of the Thames, an office that involves, among other duties, the 
holding eight courts within the year, and occasionally a ninth. He has to sign 
affidavits to notarial documents required for transmission to the colonies, to 
attend, when necessary, committees of the municipal body, and the meetings of 
the Sewage Commissioners, of which he is a member. Then, in matters of 
a more general nature, in which the City is concerned, or in which it feels in- 
terested, he is expected to take the lead, and in consequence is in continual com- 
munication with the Government ; he presides at public meetings ; distinguished 
foreigners have a kind of prescriptive claim on his attention and hospitality. 
He attends the Privy Council on the accession of a new sovereign ; at corona- 
tions he is chief butler, and receives a golden cup as his fee. And as if his time 
were still insufficiently occupied with his own corporate business, and the 
things naturally growing out of it, other institutions look to him for assistance : 
he is a governor of Greenwich Hospital, governor of King's College, a trustee of 
St. Paul's, and connected with we know not how many other schools, hospitals, 
and public foundations. Lastly, not that the list is exhausted, but that our 





■pace IB, he siU dttilt/ in his own justice-room at the Mansion House^ for scarcely 
lesa than four hours a day on the average. We are not aware how the mero 
enumeration of such an overwhelming amount of husiness as this may affect the 
fancy of the sportive wits who amuse themselves at the expense of the office and 
the officer, but wc do know that the latter need desire no better revenge than to 
be allowed to catch one of these said gentlemen, and place him in the civic chair 
for a single week. 

Yet it must be owned that some of the interest formerly attached to the 
Mayoralty, and moat of the romance, hare been lost. There are no opportunities 
now for the incipient Walworths to show their prowess; no government, be it 
Whig or Tory, thinks now of making the Lord Mayor an occasional inmate of 
the Tower, as a mode of drawing his attention, as a wealthy and benevolent citizen, 
to its financial necessities. The history of the Lord Mayors of London in the 
nineteenth century certainly looks rather insignificant beside the history of their 
predecessors some four or five centuries back. Take up any tolerably full index 
to a history of the metropolis, and mark the expressive items enumerated under 
the word Mayor. Here is Maitland's, which, beginning with the first chief magis- 
trate (after the bailiffs), Henry Fitz-Alwin, 1189, and proceeding chronologically 
downwards, tells us that at one time the Mayor — submits to the king's mercy, 
at another — is arrested, and purchases his liberty at a dear rate — is committed 
to priaon — is, with four of the aldermen, delivered up to the prince to be fleeced — 
U degraded — presented to the Constable of the Tower — again committed to 
prison — reprimanded by the privy council — flies with the other citizens — assaulted 
— fined; "warm work, my masters !" and this all in the first century and a half. 
The cause was, no doubt, to be found very much in the feelings and conduct of 
the Mayor and his brethren in those days; they were neither content, on the 
one hand, to help the monarch to fieece their fellow-citizens, nor would be fleeced 
themselves, without being delivei-ed up, on the other. And, after all, one wonders 
why the monarch took so much trouble with men who were indignant at what ho 
did rather than grateful for what he did not, but might have done i and seeing 
how much more easy it was to seize and take care of a charter than a mayor, 
how much more profitable its gracious restoration. Possibly the fact that the 
citizens of London could, if need were, use the arms with which they were then 
generally provided, may have had something to do with the matter, and rendered 
subtlety as necessftry as force in dealing with them. Hence the interference of 
royalty in the earlier elections, and the variety of interesting events that sprang 
from this interference, among which is one that it is strange has not been more 
•Iwelt upon, from the high interest attached to an actor therein. It may surprise 
many to hear that one of the greatest of English poets, Chaucer, ought also to be 
looked upon as one of the most eminent on the roll of the civic illustrious : no 
portrait, no memorial of any kind, reminds you in Guildhall of his name, yet 
was he an exile in the cause of corporate freedom. Bom in London, as he him- 
self tells us, and feeling more kindly love " to that place than to any other in 
earth," he was not one to remain in inaction when its liberties were threatened 
with utter destruction by Richard H. Fortunately, we possess his own state- 
ment of what his views on this subject had been from an early period of his life. 



helping — to certain coBJuracions [confcdcracifs], and other great matters of ruling 
of citizens ; and thylke things being iny drawers-in and exciters to these matters, 
were so painted and coloured, which at the prime face meseemed them noble 
and glorious to all the people. I then weening mickle merit [to] have deserved 
in furthering and maintenance of those things, busied and lal>oured with all my 
diligence, in working of thilke matters to the end. And truly to tell you the 
sooth, merought little of any hate of the mighty Senators* in thilke city, nor of 
commons malice, for two skilles [reasons] : one was, I had comfort to be in such 
plight, that both profit were to me and to my friends ; another was, for common 
profit in communaity is not, but [unless] peace and tranquillity with just govern- 
ance proceedeth from thilke profit:" observations worthy of the author of the 
'Canterbury Tales;' and presenting an interesting glimpse of the principles 
that guided the poet in action. Prior to the event we are about to notice. 
Richard had shown an almost open hostility towards the citizens, partly, it is 
said, on account of their manly remonstrances against the proceedings of his 
ministers, and partly from envy of their wealth. Accordingly, it appears. " he 
was accustomed/' says Godwin, "when they had fallen under his displeasure, to 
oblige them to purchase his forgiveness with large contributions in money ;" and 
luj had also repeatedly imposed his own creature. Sir Nicholas Brembcr, as 
Mayor, upon them, in defiance of their wishes and rights. It may be here no- 
ticed that the City records show that, in former times, the election of the Mayor 
was claimed by some popular and large constituency, which, no doubt, was the 
entire body of citizens ; we shall perceive, in Chaucer's own account of the 
matter, that this was an clement of the struggle between Richard and the Lon- 
doncra. Describing (in his appeal to the government from the Tower, from which 
the foregoing passage is taken) the arguments used by his associates to inducc 
him to adopt the line of conduct which had brought him into so much misery, 
he says. " The things which, quod they, be for common advantage, may not 
stand, but [unless] we be executors of these matters, and authority of execution 
by common eUcfion, to us be delivered ; and that must enter by strength of your 
maintenance." Again, '* The government," quod they, ** of your city, left in the 
hands of tornencious [usurious or extortionate] citizens shall bring in pestilence 
and destruction to you. good men ; and therefore let us have the common aclmi- 
niitration to abate such evils." We have here still more clearly pointed out the 
motives that actuated Chaucer in engaging in the struggle between the King and 
the popular party in the City, and which rose to its climax in 1392; when the 
latter selected John of Northampton to be the candidate fur the Mayoralty in 
^^pposition to Brcmbcr, and a most exciting contest ensued. Chaucer is supposed 
by Godwin to have had another motive besides his regard for the liberties of the 
City, namely, zeal for his patron, John of Gaunt, towards whose ruin, it seems, 
the proceedings of the Court were looked upon as the first step. Of the details 
of the struggle we know very little. Chaucer says of it, " And so, when it fell'ree tlcciiun by great clamour ofvtuch people [who], for great disease of go- 
vernment, so fervently stooden in their election [of their own candidate] that 



* The AliltnTDen prabolil/ of thatcUy ; a body thit w« Brnl contiauAll/ leufaig tcwarda royalty Uirougb 
•uly struggle! of lite cil tau agaiiut it. 


Ukcy themselves BuliJiitted to every manner face [or, in other words, every ima 
ginablc disadvantage] rather than have aufTered the manner and the rule of the 
hated governors, (notwithstanding that [they], in the contrary, held much com- 
mon meiny [followers] that have no consideration bat only to voluntary 
lusts without reason), then thilke governor [Breraber] so forsaken," and 
fearing " his undoing for misrule in his time," endeavoured to hinder the 
election and jirocure a new one in favour of himself; and then burst out the 
insurrection, or in the poet's words, "moJcyl roar arcared." The result shows 
how deeply he was himself concerned. After the *' ruar " had been quelled 
by a large armed body, under Sir Kobcrt Kuollcs, on the part of the king, 
and Sir Nicholas Brcmber once more unduly installed in the chair, proceed- 
ings commenced against the principal leaders of the defeated party. Of 
these wc Bnd only two names mentioned^John of Northampton's, who was 
committed to confinement in Corfc Castle, and tlicncc removed to Carisbrook 
Castle whilst preparations for his trial were made, and Chaucer's, against 
whom similar process was commenced, but who, knowing the men with whom he 
had to deal, fled to Zealand. There he seems to have suffered mucli dietress 
and chiefly through the conduct of some of those with whom he had been con- 
nected in the business of the election. In 1386 he ventured to return to London, 
where he received a mark of the public approbation of his conduct by his being 
I'lectcd a member of parliament for Kent. Jt may have been this very election 
which determined the government not to overlook his former conduct, and so to 
get rid of a man whose abilities they must have dreaded ; for it a]>pcars that he 
was arreated in the latter part of the same year, sent to the Tower, and deprived 
of the offices he held, namely, the Comptrollcrship of the Customs in the Port of 
London and the comptrollership of the small customs. Touchingly beautiful arc 
his laments over his sad estate at this time. Having alluded to the delicious 
hours he was wont to spend enjoying the blissful seasons, and contrasted them 
with his penance in the dark prison, cut off from friendship and acquaintances, 
*' forsaken of all that any word dare speak *' for him, he continues : " Although 
I had little, in respect [comparison] among others great and worthy, yet had I 
a fair parcel, as mcthought for the time, in furthering of my sustenance ; and 
had riches sufficient to waive need; and had dignity to be reverenced in worship; 
fwiver methought that I had to keep from mine enemies ; and mcsecmcd to 
sliioe in glory of renown. Every one of those joys is turned into his contrary : for 
riches, now have I poverty ; for dignity, now am I imprisoned: instead of power, 
wretchedness I suffer; and for glory of renown, I am now despised and fully 
hated.'* He was set at liberty in 1389. though not, it is said, until he had pur- 
chased freedom by dishonourable disclosures as to his former associates : the 
whole sobject, however, is loo much enveloped in mystery for ub to venture on 
mnj unfavourable decision ; we can only be sure of the important fact, that no one 
suffered in consequence of Chaucer's liberation. 

Ascending the steps opposite the entrance into the Hall. Av-hich lead to the 
other parts of the building, we find the room known as the court of aldermen, 
having a rich and elaborate ceiling in stucco, divided into compartments, the 
principal of tliein containing paintings by Sir James Thornhill. The cornice of 
tho room consists of a scries of carved and painted arms of all the Mayors since 



1780. The apartment, as its name tells us, is used for the sittings of the Court 
of Aldermen, who in judicial matters form the bench of magpstrales for the me- 
tropolis, and in their more directly corporate capacity try the validity of ward 
elections and of claims to freedom, who admit and swear brokers, superintend 
prisons, order prosecutions, and perform a variety of other analogous duties: a 
descent, certainly, from the high position of the ancient eorculdmen, or superior 
Saxon nobility, from whom they derive their name and partly their functions. 
They were called " barons " down to the time of Henry I., if, as is probable, the 
latter term in the charter of that king refers to the Aldermen. A striking proof 
of the high rank and importance of the individuals so designated is to be found in 
the circumstance that the wards of l.ondon of which they were aldermen were, in 
some cases, at least, their own heritable property, and as such bought and 
sold, or transferred under particular circumstances. Thus the aldermanry of a 
ward was purchased, in 1270, by William Faryngdon, who gave it his own name, 
and in whose family it remained upwards of 80 years; and, in another case, the 
Knighten Guild having gi\'en the lands and soke of what is now called Portaoken 
ward to Trinity Priory, the Prior became, in consequence. Alderman, and so the 
matter remained in Stow's time, who beheld the Prior of his day riding in pro- 
cession with the Mayor and Aldermen, only distinguished from them by wearing 
a purple instead of a scarlet gown. As to the present constitution of the body, 
it may be briefly described as follows : each of the twenty-six wards into which 
the city is divided elects one alderman, with the exception of Cripplcgate- Within 
and Cripplcgate- Without, which together send but one ; add to these an alder- 
man for Southwark, or, as it is sometimes called, Bridge Ward-Without, and we 
have the entire number of 26, including the Mayor. They are elected for life 
at ward-motes, by such householders as are at the same time freemen, and paying 
not less than 30*. per annum to the local taxes. The fine for the rejection of the 
o£Bce is 500/. Generally speaking, the aldermen consist of those persons who, as 
common-councilmen, have won the good opinions of their fellows, and who are 
presumed to be fitted for the higher offices to which they as aldermen are liable, 
the Shrievalty and the Mayoralty. Leaving the Court of Aldermen for the 
Council Chamber, towards which we now advance through an elegant corridor, 
we find ourselves surrounded by the chief artistical treasures of the Corporation. 
Before we notice these we may conclude our sketch of the component parts of the 
latter, with a few words on the Common Council and the general body from which 
they are chosen. The members of the Council are elected by the same class as 
the aldermen, but in very varying — and in comparison with the size and import- 
ance of the wards — inconsequential numbers. Bassishaw and Lime Street wards 
have the smallest representation, — 4 members, and those of Farringdon- Within 
and Without the largest, namely 16 and 17. The entire number of the Council 
is 240. Their meetings are held under the presidency of the Lord Mayor ; and 
the Aldermen have also the right of being present. The other chief officers of the 
municipality, as the Recorder, Chamberlain. Judges of the Sheriffs Courts, Com- 
mon Sergeant, the four City Pleaders, Town Clerk, &c.. Sec, also attend. Of the 
functions of the Council it will be only necessary to observe, that it is the legis- 
lative body of the Corporation, and in that capacity enjoys an unusual degree o< 
power, such as that of making important alterations in the constitution of the 




latter, that it Jispensea the funds, manages the landed properly, has the care of 
the bridges and of the Thames Navigation, with many other powers and trusts. 
•* Iq the earliest times/* say the Corporation commissioners, the words Commutte 
CcncUium appear to have been applied sometimes to the whole body of citizens, 
sometimes to the Magistracy (that is^ the Lord Mayor and Aldermen), or the 
Magistracy and ShcrifiTs. In the reign of Henry III. a Folkmote seems to have 
been summoned to meet the Magistracy three or four times in the year» and on 
special occaaiona.*'* We have already seen that the election of the Mayor wat 
claimed by the citizens generally ; and altogether it seems evident^ that in the 
Saxon time the folkmote, as the meeting of the entire body of people in the open 
Air was called, or the busting or common hall, when withtn-doors, exercised the 
inost important functions of local government. And although these rights were 
placed in abeyance during the first shock of the Conquest, they were again 
claimed and made the subject of frequent struggles, similar to that in which 
Chaucer was engaged, as reviving peace and prosperity afforded opportunities. 
From the Lord Mayor, Aldermen, and Common Council, we descend to the 
Livery and the freemen, from which, step by step, the former have risen. Until 
of late years, the only path to freedom was through the halls of the companies 
(the ancient guilds), and they.'in effect, still form the true base of the civic struc- 
ture. As wc shall devote an early number to them, we need only here observe 
that the Livery, of whom we hear so much, are favoured portions of the general 
body of freemen in each company, who possess the right of electing the Mayor, 
Sheriffs, Chamberlain, and other municipal officers, who form, in a word, the 
Common Hall of the present day. Glancing back over the general features of 
the entire corporate body, the analogy frequently pointed out between the na* 
tional and the civic parliament appears no idle dream, such as we may fancy to 
have visited the slumbers of some ambitious aldermanic brain, but strikingly 
true, clear, and interesting. We perceive an elective head, as the sovereign 
once was elective, a comparatively irresponsible, and at a certain period — when, 
indeed, the very same parties probably sat as barons in both parliaments — 
hereditary second estate, and a Commons representing, or professing to repre- 
sent, the citizens or the people. To carry it still farther, as Mayor, Aldermen, 
and Common Council sit in one chamber, so sat the component parts of the na- 
tional parliament when it first began to assume its present form ; as the parlia- 
mentary constituencies really form but a fraction of the people, so do the Livery 
stand towards the general body of the citizens. But the most interesting result 
of the comparison is one that, we suspect, docs not altogether agree with the 
popular view of the subject — that the lesser apes the greater : when municipal 
government in England was in its freest^ most energetic, and most flourishing 
condition, parliaments, in any just sense of the terra as applicable to their ex- 
isting constitutions and powers, were unknown. In short, of our original local 
government, " enough is discoverable to show most clearly that it had never 
been moulded by a central authority, but that, on the contrary, the central 
authority had been, as it were, built upon the broad basis of a free municipal 

* Report, p. 39. ] 

I Article, BMougbi of Sugliud and Vr'ftlcs, ' Pnuij Cjrclopedia, J 



The scene of these united assemblages owes little of its interest to its beauty 
or splendour. One would think, from the dingy ajipcarancc of the crimson 
lining of the walls, and the paltry matting of the floor, that the place belonged 
to the poorest rather than to the richest of municipalities, did not the numerous, 
and in some instances well-known, works of art around the walls, chiefly the pro- 
ductions of corporate patronage, show that it possessed no stinted exchequer. 
The sculpture consists of a full-length white marble statue of George IH., by 
Chantrcy, placed in a niche of a bluish-grey colour at the back of the seat of 
mayoralty, and of some busts, one of them Granville Sharpe's, also by Chantrey, 
and one of Nelson, by the lady sculptor, the Hon. Mrs. Damcr, who so worshipped 
its subject, that after the hero of the Nile had sat to her, she not only " loved to 
relate the conversations which she had with her ' Napoleon of the waves,* *' bat 
" it was one of her favourite ideas to form a little book of his sayings and re- 
marks, for the use of her young relative, the son of Sir Alexander Johnston." * 
Among the pictures are Northcote's 'Death of Wat Tyler,' Copley's * Siege of 
Gibraltar,' Opic*s 'Murder of David Rlzzio,* with some interesting portraits by 
Sir W. Beechey, Sir T. Lawrence, Copley, and Opie; of which Alderman Boy- 
dell's, by Beechey, may be particularised for the sake of the public-spirited man 
to whose generous and enlightened zeal art owes so much. One feature of the 
collection is curious — the number of representations connected with Gibraltar : 
there arc no less than three 'Defences.' and all by "R. Paton, Esq." 

The other noticeable portions of Guildhall are the Old Court of King's Bench, 
the Chamberlain's OfBce, and the Waiting or Reading Room. In the first 
(where, among other pictures, is a pair of classical subjects — Minerva, by Westall, 
and Apollo washing his locks in the Castalian fountains, by Gavin Hamilton), 
the greater portion cf the judicial business of the Corjwration is carried on : that 
business, as a whole, comprising in its civil jurisdiction, first, the Court of Hus- 
tings, the supreme court of record in London, and which is frequently resorted 
to in outlawry and other cases where an exjjcditious judgment is desired ; secondly, 
the Lord Mayor's Court, which has cognizance of all personal and mixed actions 
at common law, which is a court of equity, and also a criminal court in matters 
pertaining to the Customs of London ; and thirdly, the Sheriff's Court, which 
has a common-law jurisdiction only; wc may add that the jurisdiction of both 
courts is confined to the City and Liberties, or, in other words, to those por- 
tions of incorporated London, known respectively in corporate language as 
Within the walls, and Without. The criminal jurisdiction includes the London 
Sessions, held generally eight times a-year, with the Recjsrder as the acting 
Judge, for the trial of felonies, &c. ; the Southwark Sessions, held in Southwark 
four times a-year; and the eight Courts of Conservancy of the River. Passing 
into the Chamberlain's Office, we find j» portrait of Mr. Thomas Tomkins, by 
Rc}'nold8 ; and if it be asked, who is Mr. Thomas Tomkins, we ha\'c only to say, 
in the words of the inscription on another great man — Look around ! All these 
beautifully written and emblazoned duplicates of the honorary Freedoms and 
Thanks voted by the City, some sixty or more, we believe, in number, arc 
the sole production of him, who, we regret to say, is the late Mr. Thomas 
Tomkins. The duties of the Chamberlain are numerous : among them, the 

* Curmlngbara's ' Britiili Scnipton,' |>. 303. 


civic GOVERNinSNt. 




nioBt worthy of mention, perhaps, are the admission, on oath, of freemen (till of 
l&te years averaging in number one thousand a-year) , the determining quarrels 
between masters and apprentices (Hogarth's prints of the Idle and Industrious 
Ajiprentices are the first things you sec within the door) ; and lastly, the Trea- 
surcrship, in which department enormous sums ofmoneypass through his hands. 
In 1832, the latest year for which we have any authenticated statement, the cor- 
jioratc receipts, derived chiefly from rents, dues, and market tolls, amounted to 
160,193/. I U. 8</. ; and the expenditure to somewhat more. The Wailing Room 
is a small but comfortable apartment, with the tabic covered with newspapers, 
and the walls with pictures; among which, Opie's Nfurder of Jamus I. of Scot- 
land is most conspicuous. There arc here also two Studies of a Tiger and a 
Lioness and her Young, by Northcotc. Near the door, numerous written papers 
attract the eye — the useful daily memoranda of the multifarious business eter- 
nally going on, and which, in addition to the matters already incidentally re- 
ferred to, point out one of the modes in which that business is accomplished 
—the Committees. We read of appointments for the Committee of the Iloyal 
Exchange — of Scwcn — of Corn, Coal, and Finance — of Navigation — of Police, 
and so on. 

The personal state of the head of so important an institution has always been 
an object of solicitude with the citizens. In his dignity they beheld the reflec- 
tion of theirs. Hence the almost princely list of officers forming his household: 
his sword-bearer, his sergeant-at-arms, his serge ant- carver, sergeants of the 
chamber, his esquires, his bailiffs^ and his young men : hence his heavy annual 
exi>cnditure, which is expected to exceed the ordinary sum appropriated for that 
purpose, amounting to nearly 8000/., by 3000/. or 4000/. more. Yet, strange 
enough, with such a household aud such a sum to be expended, they never 
thought of giving him a house till the last century ; and the Mayors, therefore, had 
to content themselves with their own, or to borrow the halls of their eompanies. 
The present pile, finished in 1753, was erect'?d by Dance. It is of course hand- 
somely fitted up, and the plate, used on all important occasions, is valued at 
above 20,000/. The Justice Koora ia immediately on the left of the chief 
entrance. A very interesting part of the business here is a remnant of a valuable 
old custom, which seems to show that the idea of a court of reconciliation is by no 
means a novelty in this country, though never fully developed. In this court 
private applications arc continually made to tho Mayor, for his advice and arbi- 
tration, and, wc understand, willi very beneficial results. TIic banquets which 
arc liere from time to time given, of a public character, as those to the chief 
members of the Government, or of a more private kind, as to the corporation, 
take place in the Egyptian Hall, an apartment of great size, with a detached 
range of large pillars, with gilded capitals, on each side, an ornamented rouf in 
panels, and a throne for his lordship — the whole brilliantly illuminated by 
chandeliers. A long and very handsome corridor leads to the Hall, from which. 
near the centre, branch off the passages to the jirivate apartments. As to tho 
pictures, busts, and statues, which should give to all such mansions their pr'm- 
cipal charm, there is here a melancholy blank. What an opportunity for some 
new BoydeU ; what a rich gallery of civic historical portraiture might not bo 
mmmoned at the call of the enchanter to people these now desolate walls. Th« 


Mansion House itself, as a building only a century old, can hardly be expected 
to have much historical interest attached to it. The most important event its 
annals can yet boast is, perhaps, the Wilkes riots, of which, during the mayor 
alty of Wilkes's friend. Brass Crosby, the neighbourhood — as shown in the printa 
of the time, from one of which the following is engraved — was the frequent 

[Tlw MumoD UwiM.nru) 

[KmIm (Iftn^, ih-j-ti ■itt^t.J 


Ip a stranger from any part of England, Scotland, or Ireland, however remote, 
were to pause in the midst of Broad Street, and inquire to what purpose that largo 
pile of building opposite to him were appropriated, he would, ten to one, oa 
learning that it was the Cxcisc OHicc, hare a livelier idea of the operutionti of 
the Board of Kwecue^ which has its seat there, than the inhabitant of London, 
provided that neither had been brought into direct contact with its officers by the 
nature of his business. In the country the uflficcr of Excise, or the exciseman, at 
'we may more familiarl}' call him, is oflcn seen hurrying through the same hamlets 
and pleasant lanes, often at untimely hours, on errands which seem half myste- 
rious. In London nobody ever sees an exciseman, except those who are in the 
habit of receiving him as an official visitor, and to many the only representative 
of the existence of such a tax as the Excise is the great building in Broad Street. 
The forces by which it levies some millions a-year for the Exchequer are as in- 
visible to them as the officers of another department — the Stamps. The Post 
Office sends forth its emissaries, every hour, through the streets of the metro- 
polis, and there is now scarcely any person who has not the satisfaction of contri- 
buting at least a few pence annually to this department of the revenue ; but it is 
only a limited number who personally have dealings with the Board of Stamps 
and Taxes, or with the Customs and Excise. The latter is by far the most pervad- 
lni{ par&of me laxing system, except the Post Office. One-half of the Customs' 
ftft^ r. H 



duty of the United Kiugdom is collected in the port of London, and two-thirds of 
it are obtained in the two porta of London and Liverpool. The great mass of 
inland dealers in articles of foreign produce, although they well know that \>y 
means of duties the price is enhanced to them by the wholesale merchant, and 
again by them raised to their customers, yet they sec nothing of the agency by 
which this process is rendered necessary. In the case of the Excise, however, 
every part of the country is parcelled out with as much distinctness as its legal 
and ecclesiastical divisions. There is first the " Collection," which corresponds 
in importance with the county, and is the primary division ; then the " Collec- 
tion" is divided into " Districts," which may be regarded equivalent to the hun 
drcds and wapentakes; and next come the " Rides'* and " Divisions," which are 
the parishes and townships of the Excise territory. Nearly 5000 officers of vari- 
ous grades arc stationed in these districts, and are busily employed in going over 
every part of the one which is aasigoed to them, for the purpose of charging the 
Excise duties on various classes of traders. But before going further into the 
nature and operations of the Excise, it may be as well briefly to notice the history 
of the system, more especially as this is not easily to be found in any single book ; 
and where it is given, the facts arc stated with a brevity which is not very in- 

In this present year, 1843, duties of Excise have been established in England 
exactly a couple of centuries. Clarendon states that an attempt was made to in- 
troduce these duties in 1626; and Prynnc gives the following account of the 
matter in a small Iractpublishcd in 1654, entitled, " A Declaration and Protesta- 
tion against the illegal and detestable, and oft-contemned new Tax and Extortion 
of Excise in general, and for Hops, a Native and uncertain commodity in parti- 
cular.*' He states that, " Our late beheaded King Charles/' by the advice of the 
Duke of Buckingham and other evil counsellors, granted a Commission under the 
Great Seal to thirty-throe Lords and others of the Privy Council, to set on foot an 
Excise in England. The production of the Commission was moved for in Pur- 
liament, and on its being brought before the House, a debate took place, which 
ended in an unanimous vote as to the scheme being contrary to the Constitution. 
A conference with the Lords subsequent!}' took place on the subject, in which Sir 
Edward Coke, on the part of the Commons, took a principal part. Ho described 
it as " Moustrum, horrendum, informc, ingens," descanting upon each of these 
strong terms; "Vet, blessed be God," he added, ' cui lumen ademptum,'^"who8e 
eyes were pulled out by the Commons," which he hoped their Lordships would 
second before the monster was fully brought forth to consume and devour the 
nation. Eventually the King cancelled the Commission, and for a time the 
matter was dropped. 

In 1641, when the struggle between the Parliament and the King was be- 
coming on© of life and death, and each party required all the means it could com- 
mand to carry on the contest, the Parliament still set their faces against raising 
a revenue from Excise duties ; and, in October, 1641, published a contradiction 
to the rumour that they intended to levy such duties. 'I'he entry on the Journals 
of the House, under this date, is as follows: — " The Commons House of Parlia- 
ment, receiving information that divers public rumours and aspersions arc by 
malignant persons cast upon this House, that they intend to aMess every man*« 







pewter and lay Excises upon that and othur commodities, the said House, for their 
vindication, do declare that these rumours are false and scandalous ; and forasmuch 
as those false rumours and scandals are raised by ill-aflcctcd persons, and tend 
much to the disservice of the Parliament, it is therefore ordered that the authors of 
these false, scandalous rumours shall be searched and enquired aftor^ and appre- 
hended and brought to this House to receive condign punishmenl.** As their neces- 
sities became greater, however, they were obliged to resort to the much-condemned 
impost. On July 22, 1G43, an ordinance of the Lords and Commons was issued for 
the speedy raising and levying of monies '* by way of Excise, or new impost," for 
the maintenanceof the forces raised by Parliament, *' until it shall please Almighty 
God, in his mercy, to move the King's Majesty's heart to confide and concur with 
both his Houses of Parliament for the establishing of a blessed and lasting 
peace." It was further ordained, '* for the better levying of the monies hereby 
to be raised, that an office from henceforth be erected and appointed in the City 
of London> to be called or known by the name of the Office of Excise, or ncn 
iin{>OBt, whereof there shall be eight Commissioners to govern the same, and ono 
of them to be treasurer, with several registrars, collectors, clerks, and other 
subordinate officers,*' as the Commissioners may determine. Of the eight Com- 
missioners appointed, three were Aldermen of the City, and another was one of 
the Sheriffs of London. The office which they established was open from eight 
in the morning to eleven, and from two till five in the afternoon ; and it was placed 
under the cognizance of a Committee of the Lords and Commons, appointed for 
advance of money, which sat at Haberdashers' HalL The Commissioners of 
Exeise were empowered to call in the aid of the trained bands, volunteers, or 
other forces, if necessary. The first articles in the list of duties were ale, beer, 
cider, and perry. The brewers were required to enter weekly, in the new office, 
the quantity of beer sold, the names of the buyers, and were not tu deliver any 
beer without first obtaining a ticket from the nu\v Excise Office. The dut}" on 
strong ale or beer, of the value of 8». the barrel, was %: if sold to the retailers, 
and I J. if for private use. Private families, who brewed, paid a duty also. AnExcise 
duty was also imposed, at the same time, on wine and certain groceries, on wrought 
silks, furs, hats, lace, and one or two other articles. The Royalists at Oxford soon 
followed the example of the Parliament, and adopted the new system of taxation, 
but they also declared that it should only be continued during the war. Although 
the people of London were so favourable to the Parliament, the new Excise Duty 
created riots iu London, and the populace burnt down the Excise House in 
Smithfield ; and Pymm, who is called by Blackstone the father of the Excise. 
in a letter to Sir John Hotham, remarks, that it would " bo necessary to use the 
people to it by little and little." The Parliament, however, went the length of 
subjecting meat and salt to the new tax. but they, some time afterwards, abolished 
it on these articles. A Declaration of Parliament was made in 1646, " iijwn 
occasion of tumults and great riots, which then, lately before, had happened, and 
were privily fomented in several parts of the kingdom against the receipts of 
the Excise;** and it was upon this occasion that they observed that as "this 
duty is by experience found to be the most easy and equal way, both in relation to- 
the people and the public, so the Lords and Commons are resolverl, through all 
Opposition whatsoever, to insist upon the duo collection thereof;" but thoy pr«i- 

u 'Z 



ini»e, when the peace of the Icingdom is settled, to show " how much more ready 
they are to ease the people of this charge than they ever could be willing to 
impose the same." For the present the people were enjoined to pay the duties 
to officers appointed to receive the same in each hundred or wapentake ; the civil 
force was called upon to assist them ; and •' Sir Thomas Fairfax, general of the 
whole forces of the kingdom, is hereby desired to order and enjoin all colonels, 
captains, officers, and soldiers, under his command, upon application made to 
them, speedily to suppress all such tumults, riots, and unlawful assemblies" as 
those which had called forth the Declaration. The opposition to the Excise docs 
not appear to have diminished much by the repeal of the duty on salt and meat. 
There were still frequent riots, the people being very averse to await with 
patience the time for taking off the others, although the Parliament stated 
in their Declaration that they could not at present take off further duties, and 
that, " in consequence of the Excise being pledged for debts, they must require 
its payment.*' Allusion is then made to "malcontents,** who gave out that 
the charge of collection was so great that " half the receipt and income were 
consumed upon ofHcers" This the Lords and Commons deny, and " assure the 
kingdom that until the late ol>struclionB and oppositions, the charge in collecting 
the Excise hath never amounted, upon the whole receipt, to full two shillings 
upon every twenty shillings received." They then point out the various im- 
|>ortant public objects to which the Excise revenue (1,334,532/.) had been 
applicdj and " to no private use whatever ;" while on the credit of this revenue 
various debts, they said, were pledged, " which must be discharged before this 
receipt can in justice or honour be laid down." In the party pamphlets of this 
period neither of the two great parties could fairly attempt to raise a popular 
clamour against its opponents on account of the Excise. It is true that, in the 
early part of his reign, Charles I. was compelled to abandon his Excise scheme, 
and in one of his declarations he charged Parliament with imposing odious excises 
upon their fellow-subjects; yet stern necessity obliged him to resort to them as 
well as the Parliament. Nevertheless the Royalist pamphlets endeavoured to 
show that the Excise was a scheme of the Republicans, and, like all other ob- 
noxious taxes, it brought iiyon the Government for the time being, for whose use 
it was paid, a full share of odium. In 1649 a scurrilous pamphlet appeared, 
purporting to be written by ' Mary Stiff, charwoman,' entitled ' The Good 
Women's Cryes against the Excise on all their Commodities." It is printed as 
prose, but written in doggrel rhyme, and in not very decent language, and suffi- 
ciently shows the nature of the popular outer)' against the tax. 

One of the earliest Bnancial measures of the Government, after the Restora^ 
tion, was the abolition of the Excise on all articles of consumption, except ale, 
beer, cyder, and perry, which produced a clear annual revenue of 666,383/. 
These duties were divided into two equal portions, called the Hereditary and the 
Temporary Excise. The first was granted to the Crown for ever, as a compensa- 
tion for the abolition by act of Parliament of various feudal tenures, — as the 
court of wards, and purveyance, and other oppressive parts of the royal heredi- 
tary revenne. The other half was only granted for the life of the king. On the 
accession of James II., Parliament granted him for life the Temjwrary Excise, 
and increased it by additional duties on wines, vinegar, tobacco, and sugar, which. 




"however, wt re only retained for a short period. The Government of the Berolu- 
tion would gladly have made itself popular by abolishing the more obnoxious of 
the Excise duties, but its necessities would not allow of such a course. The 
duty on glass and on malt was first imposed in William's reign, and the distil- 
leries were subjected to Excise duties as well as the brewers. The salt duty was 
reim posed, and the duty on ale and beer increased, the latter producing an 
addition of 450.000/. a-y ear to the revenue. During the thirteen years of the 
reign of William III. the Excise duties averaged nearly a million a-year. The 
expensive wars of Anne's reign rendered it necessary still further to increase the 
number of articles subject to Excise, and duties were imposed on paper, stained- 
paper, and soap. This branch of revenue produced an average of l,r38,000^ 
during the twelve years of her reign. The produce of the Excise, during the 
peaceable reign of George I., averaged 2,340,000/. per annum, with no addition 
to the number of excisable articles, except a small duty on wrought plate. 

The Excise still remained the most obnoxious branch of the public revenue. 
The laws for its protection were very severe, and no other tax so constantly and 
inconveniently interfered with the trading classes, or excited so wide-spread a 
prejudice ; for the unpopularity of the duties on importation was chiefly confined 
to the towns on the coast, but the Excise laws were felt by persons in every 
corner of the country. It was a current opinion of the political writers of the day, 
in which Locke and Davenant had been deceived, that taxes of every description 
fell ultimately upon the land ; and this is a point of importance in the considera- 
tion of Sir Robert Walpolc's attempts to introduce his great scheme for extend- 
ing the Excise. He had Land and Trade against him. and was baffled by the 
most violent and ignorant burst of popular clamour which it was ever the fate of 
a minister to encounter. A short notice of Wal pole's scheme will not, perhaps, 
be unacceptable to those who take an interest in the history of finance ; and the 
reception it met with is also exceedingly characteristic of the times. At that 
period the fiscal laws of the country were daily outraged in the most open and 
daring manner. The highwaymen, who pursued their occupation with impunity 
on all the roads leading to London, had their counterpart in the desperate cla$s 
of men who carried on the trade of smugglers along the coast, murdering the 
officers of the revenue, setting fire to custum-houses, and riding in armed gangs 
of twenty or more, within half a dozen miles of London, on the banks of the 
Thames. A committee of the House of Commons, appointed in 1732 to inquire 
into the frauds and abuses committed in the Customs, and which did not com* 
ptete its task, reported that since Christmas, 1723. a period of nine years, 
the smuggling of tea and brandy had been conducted openly and audaciously, 
that the number of custom-house officers beaten and abused amounted to 250, 
and six had been murdered. In the same period 251,320 lbs. of tea and 652,924 
gallons of brandy had been seized and condemned, and upwards of 2000 persons 
prosecuted; and 229 boats and other vessels had been condemned. Owing cither 
to the adroitness of the smugglers or the corruption of the revenue officers, only 
2808 hogsheads of wine had been condemned in these nine years ; but the num- 
ber " run " in Hampshire, Dorsetshire, and Devonshire was 4738 ; and informa- 
tions had been entered against 400 persons. The sense of honour amongst the 
mercantile classes of that day was at a low point. It was proved before th« 



committee in question that by perjury, forgery, and the grossest collusion, the 
revenue was frequently defrauded to the amount of a third of the duty on tobacco ; 
and that in the port of London a loss of 100,000/. per annum was sustained by 
the dishonest manner in which the drawback on re-exportation was obtained, 
which in some cases exceeded the sum originally received by government. 
When Wal pole introduced his plan, on the 15thofMarchj 1733, for the cor- 
rection of these abuses, he held in his hand a book which had belonged to a 
tobacro-merchant in the City, shewing one of the modes of defrauding the go- 
vernment by collusion with officers of the revenue. False quantities were entered 
at the times of importation, and this column was covered by a slip of paper art- 
fully pasted down, on wliich were written the real quantities. The import duties 
were paid on the first or false quantity, and the drawback obtained on the real 
quantity; and, of course, the one amount was larger than the other, and the 
government was defrauded to the extent of the difference. In the case which 
the minister quoted, the merchant ohtained in each case a drawback to nearly 
twice the amount of what he had actually paid duty for upon importation. 
Another variety of fraud in the tobacco trade was that of receiving the drawback 
for exportation and then re-landing it. A great trade was carried on in this way 
with Guernsey^ Jersey, the Isle of Man. and the ports of Dunkirk, Ostend, S&c. 
Besides persons apparently respectable, aud custom-house officers, who were en- 
gaged in plundering the revenue, watermen, lightermen, and City-porters called 
gangsmen, were equally active in "socking," — a cant term then in use for steal- 
ing tohacco from ships in the riier. This practice was discovered in 1728; and 
it appeared that fifty tons of tobacco had been " socked *' on board sliips aud on 
the quays, and deposited in houses from London Bridge to Woolwich, in the 
course of one year. One hundred and fifty custom-house ofHcers were dismissed 
for participating in these frauds, and several of them were prosecuted at the 
expense of government. In mentioning this circumstance, Walpole observed, 
" And it is not a little remarkable, when we recollect the professions of pa- 
triotism, virtue, and disinterestedness which arc now so copiously poured forth, 
that not a single merchant, though the facts were so notorious and shameful, 
assisted the state, cither by information or pecuniary exertion, to suppress the 
fraud or bring the delinquents to punishment." 

The plan of the minister for the correction of these abuses was, to benefit the 
fair trader by putting down his unprincipled competitors, and to improve the 
revenue without the addition of new duties. Conceiving that the laws of the 
Customs were insufficient to prevent fraud, there being only one check — that at 
the time of importation — he proposed that tobacco should be subject to the laws 
of the Excise as well as those of the Customs. While the total duty would not 
be increased, the Customs duty was to be only three- farthings the pound, and he 
added: — "I propose for the future that all tobacco, after being weighed at the 
Custom-house, and charged with the said three- farthings per pound, shall be 
lodged in a warehouse or warehouses, to be appointed by the Commissioners of 
Excise, of which warehouse the merchant- importer shall have one lock and key, 
and the ware ho use -keeper to be appointed by the said commissioners sliall have 
nnother, that the tobacco may lie safe in that warehouse till the merchant finds a 
market for it, either for exportation or home consumption." If he sold for 





exportation, the quantity, after being rc-wcighed, was discharged of the Customs 
duty of three-farthings ; and if for home consumption, he paid also the same 
duty, and on delivering it to the buyer, an inland duty of fourpcnce to the 
proper officer appointed to receive the same. This is precisely^ in in iU main 
features, the admirable principle of the present warehousing system ; but in 
Tain did Sir Robert Walpolc urge the merits of his plan, and plead for it "as a 
moat innocent scheme, hurtful to none but smugglers and unfair traders/* In 
Tain did he assert and demonstrate, with great clearness, that his measure would 
increase the revenue, and " tend to make London a free port, and, by conse- 
quence; the market of the world." The alarm had been thoroughly sounded 
from one end of the country to the other, even before the minister brought forth 
his project; and when his intentions were only surmised the country was lashed 
into such a state of blind fury that it seemed to have Lost its common sense on 
this occasion. Ballads were printed and sung about the streets, with a wood-cut 
of a dragon with several heads at the top. This monster drew a chariot, in 
which sat a portly person (Walpole), receiving large sums of gold which issued 
from one of the mouths of the beast. A tobacconist set up a new device on his 
paper, of three wooden shoes on a shield, with an exciseman and a grenadier, as 
supporters. According to the Cm/tstnan* the terms used in the game of 
Quadrille were changed, and to be "becsted' was to be excised, while one sorl 
of card was called the Projector (Walpole), and others, Commissioners; and so 
it states, the humour ran through the town. The same violent partizan manu- 
ikctured a story of a lady having been robbed of two guineas only out of ten 
by a highwayman, whose politeness rather astonishing her, she had couragt 
enough to express her surprise ; on which he said, " Madam, I rob like a gentle- 
man ! I assure you I do not belong to the ' Projector ;' I am none of his gang." 
On the 15th of March, when Walpole introduced his new measure, "not only 
the members solicited the attendance of their friends, but letters were delivered 
by the beadles and other officers in the parishes and wards of the city, to induce 
a numerous party to assemble at the doors and in the avenues to the House, in 
order to overawe the proceedings of the legislature. "t Deputies from the pro- 
Tincial towns had been sent to London to oppose the measure, and the corpora- 
tions throughout the country were very generally active for the same object. 
The newspapers of the day state, that on the I5th ''avast number of eminent 
merchants and traders appeared in the Court of Requests* lobby, and places con- 
tiguous to the House of Commons, to solicit against the excise." The debate 
WAS maintained with great spirit until two o'clock in the morning — an hour then 
Tery Quusual^ and on a division, there voted with the minister 266, against 205. 
As Sir Hubert left the house some of the exasperated people outside attempted 
to do him some personal injury, but were prevented by the interference of his 
son, and his friend General Churchill. Several divisions took place in subse- 
quent stages of the Bill, and the ministerial majority dwindled from 61 to 17. 
A private meeting was now summoned by Sir Robert of the principal members 
who had supported the Bill, at which he was urged to proceed with the measure, 

• • Tb« Cmftsman,' avwUy newspniwr, eommniced in 1727, as Uio orRan of the omnby paitjr. It WH 
«Tti1«i tritli gmtifirit, anAwauM of the apprailion Iculpn oee&tioualljr conU-ibulcd to it. 
f Cote's * Life of Sir R. Walpole^* toL iii. ^ 81. 



notwithstanding the violence of the opposition both from within and without. 
Walpole is reported to have said that, "in the present inflamed temper of the 
people the Act could not be carried into execution, without an armed force ; and 
there will be an end of the liberty of England, if supplies are to be raised by the 
sword;" and he would, he said, resign rather than enforce taxes at the expense 
of blood. On the 1 1th of April, when the Bill stood for a second reading, he 
moved that it should be postponed to the I'ith of June, or, in other words, he 
abandoned his scheme. The Wine Bill, a measure of similar character, was 
never brought in. No great national victory could be hailed with such exube- 
rant triumph as that with which the country greeted the defeat of the minister's 
" monster project." 

This defeat was celebrated in Tendon the same evening by bonfires, illu- 
minations, ringing of bells, and other public demonstrations of joy throughout 
the whole city: the Monument was illuminated. The demonstrations in the 
provinces were, if possible, still more fervent. The rejection of a great measure 
would now be known at such a place as Bristol by midnight, or within five 
hours after the event had been announced; but, in 1733, the news of the 
dropping of the tobacco bill was brought to that city by an express which 
arrived at eleven o'clock the following night. The merchants knocked at each 
other's doors to announce the good news; bonfires were lighted in the streets, 
one of large size opposite the Excise-office ; at two in the morning the bells of 
the city-churches struck up a merry peal, and continued ringing all that day and 
even on the Saturday ; barrels of ale were also given away in the streets; and 
two effigies were burnt, probably the one representing the prime minister and 
the other an exciseman. The " courier" for Liverpool with the good news passed 
through Coventry on Thursday, " when the joy that immediately appeared in 
every countenance was inexpressible, and demonstrated itself by ringing of bells, 
bonfires, and illuminations, with the sound of trumpets, drums, and French horns, 
ionrmiiuj-panx, and cx'erything that could make a noise, while healths went 
briskly round to all the honest (?) gentlemen that were against the excise." At 
Liverpool, the day on which the news arrived (Friday, 13th April) was spent 
"in ringing of bells, wearing of g^lt cockades on leaf tobacco, under which was 
written 'No Excise;' ships' colours were displayed, and those of the Exchange, 
and guns fired in honour of the glorious 204." Effigies were burnt both at 
Coventry and Liverpool. At Southampton, also, " somebody was carried round 
the town in effigy, and then thrown into the fire." At Chester, where messengers 
with the intelligence arrived on the 13th, there were lighted " the greatest num- 
ber of bonfires ever known in the city :" one opposite the recorder's was kept 
in for five days. A great ball was given, and the Exchange was illuminated by 
204 candles, being the number of the worthy gentlemen who had opposed the 
obnoxious measure. From Lewes, the Cra/fsman received a private letter which 
began by saying: *' No news (newspapers, we suppose, are meant) come to this 
place, but we are glad to hear from private accounts that the old English spirit 
still appears for the preservation of our liberties and properties.** At Rye, most 
probably a great stiont;hold of smugglers, " every one expressed an insuperable 
delight in being happily rescued from further excises and uooden A-hoesJ'* At 
Cambridge there were great rejoicings, but Cambridge was far outslione by 



Oxford. The rampant proceedings at the latter university on the defeat of the 
minister sufiicicntly indicate that political hatred of the most violent kind was 
the chief motive of the leaders of the opposition, and truly they had a super- 
fluity of ignorance and prejudice at their command, such as dota not often glad 
the feelings of political bigotry. At Oxford, says Archdeacon Coxe, in his ' Life 
of Walpole,' " the gownsmen joined and encouraged the moh, Jacobinical crie« 
resounded through the town, and three days passed in this disgraceful manner 
before the Vice-chancellor and proctors could restore tranquillity." 

Walpole remained undismayed amidst this political storm, and so far from 
being disgraced, as was fondly anticipated by his opponents, the king dismissed 
•everal ]>ersons who had deserted the ministerial ranks. The Earl uf Chester- 
field was deprived of the office of Lord Steward of the Household two days after 
the Excise-bill was abandoned, and his dismissal was followed by that of five other 
peers who held official situations. Lord Culiham and the Duke of Bolton were 
deprived of their regiments, and the friends of the ministLT were appointed to 
several of the vacant posts. The king's speech, on closing the session, alluded 
to " the wicked endeavours that have lately been made use of to inflame the 
minds of the people, and, by the most unjust misrepresentation, to raise tumults 
Vid disorders that almost threatened the peace of the kingdom.'* The extrava- 
gant* ideas of liberty and of their own superiority over all other people which 
were entertained at this period by the aro quietly satirised by Gold- 
smith's ' Chinese Philosopher/ who listened to a conversation carried on between 
a debtor through the gate of his prison, a porter, and a soldier, the subject being 
an apprehended invasion from France. The prisoner feared that liberty, the 
Englishman's prerogative, would be endangered if the French were to conquer. 
The soldier with an oath exclaims that it would not so much be our liberties as 
OUT religion that would suffer, and the porter terms the French a paclc of slaves 
fit only to carry burdens. Andrew Marvell, Blackstone, and Johnson were great 
vilifiers of the Excise. Marvell describes it as "a hateful tax;" Blackstone, 
writing in J 765, says that '* from its first original to the present time its very 
name has been odious to the people of England," and the great lexicographer's 
definition is well known.* The Excise laws have been so injudiciously framed, and 
in many instances rendered so unnecessarily vexatious, that they have, in conse- 
quence, obtained more than their due share of the discredit which attaches generally 
to all taxes. Above six hundred acta of Parliament for enforcing Excise regulations 
are a trap to even the fairest trader ; and, at the best, it is no light evil to conduct 
manufacturing processes under a system of interference and regulation enforced 
by heavy penalties. While the Commissioners of Excise Inquiry give some in- 
stances of the prejudicial effects of such a system, they also point out the manner 
io which they may be diminished. 

The Gin Act of 1736, an unwise and futile attempt to put down intemperance 
by a tax intended to make that liquor too dear for the poor, who solely or chiefly 

• Mr. Croker, in his variorum editicm of Bofwell, ^owf iJiat there ii very good Rrouriil for Miff'iiift llwt 
JotifMon'i itirrtrratp tuitrvd of the Etci»e lititl ity oiifin in a prowciitioii a^injt hti fsthfr for tonu> hfcach of their 
Ittva. Hmc# tb« term* in which Iw v^vaks nf a Comminionrr of Exc'im tti the 'Idler,' and Ihr •ournlotu deSnitifin 
iu ebr Dictionary. Tbf latter wu artiiall^ lubtnittni by tiio Comtniaaiuticn to cuuDwl for an opiiuoo ai to tta 
libclkuM c)uract«r. — See CtqUci* ' UoiwelL* 



used it, 18^ at least, an instructive chapter in the history of Excise laws. Sir 
Joseph Jekyll, the Master of the Rolls, was the author of this Act, which 
raised the duty on gin and other spirituous liquors to twenty shillings the gallon, 
and required that only licensed dealers paying fifty pounds per annum for a 
license should be allowed to retail spirits. "No man could," says Lord Chol- 
mondeley, "no man would observe the law; and it gave such a turn to the spirit 
of the peo]jlc, that no man could, with safety, venture to become an informer." 
The Jacobites endeavoured, as usual, to turn the discontent of the people at 
this measure to their own profit, and serious fears were for a time entertained of 
an insurrection of the populace of London. Sir Robert Walijolc, writing to his 
brother Horace on the 30th September, 1736, gives an account of these machin- 
ations. ''The scheme that was laid was, for all the distillers that were able, to 
give away gratis, to all that should ask for it, as much gin and strong waters as 
they should desire, and the great distillers were to supply all the retailers and 
small shops with as much as they should want, to be distributed and given away 
in like manner. The shops were to begin to be opened on Tuesday evening, the 
eve of Michaelmas Day, and to be continued and repeated on Wednesday night, 
that the mob, being made thus drunk, might be prepared and ready to commit 
any sort of mischief; and in order to this, anonymous letters were sent to 
the distillers and town retailers in all parts of the town, to instruct them and in- 
cite them to rise and join their friends and do as their neighbours did.'* Several 
of these letters were placed in the hands of the government by the officers of 
Excise. As a means of prevention troops were paraded in the several places 
where the mob were likely to assemble. What follows is taken from the news- 
papers of the day. On Tuesday a large party of the Life Guards and Horse 
Grenadiers remained all night under arms in Covent Garden, and troops were 
stationed at the house of Sir Joseph Jekyll, the author of the obnoxious bill. 
On Wednesday various parts of London and Westminster were patrolled by 
the troops. Several persons were taken into custody for shouting " No gin, 
no king,** and many others were lying about the streets dead drunk with 
" taking leave of Geneva." The ' Crnffsman ' of October 9lh says, that "Mo- 
ther Gin died very quietly ;*' but the real struggle against the law was of 
a nature not to be put down by an armed force, and in the above paper of 
the same day it is remarked, " but though the common people are deprived 
of gin, there are various drams invented and sold at the gin-shops in lieu 
thereof, as sangarce, tow-row, cyder boiled with Jamaica pepper. Sec.*' At 
several brandy-shops in High Holborn, St. Giles's, Thieving Lane, Tothill 
Street, Rosemary Lane, Wliitechapel, Shorcditch, the Mint, and Kent Street, 
drams were sold under the following names i^Sangarcc, tow-row, cuckold's 
comfort, parliament-gin, make-shift, the last shift, the ladies* delight, the 
baulk, King Theodore, or Corsica, and cholic and gripe waters. People carried 
spirits about the streets lor sale in barrows, baskets, litters, &c. The apothe- 
caries wcro allowed to sell spirits to sick persons; and on the first Saturday after 
the new act came into operation, the newspapers slate that "several apothecaries' 
shops had so large a call for gripe and cholic waters, &c., by the poor sort of 
pcojdc, the masters were obliged to employ an additional number of hands in 
serving them." A person in St. James's Market sold drams coloured red in 






cottJcs, and a paper about them with the following directions : — " TaVe two or 
three spoonsful of this fuur or five times a-day, or as often as the fit takes you/' 
In a Dumber of the * Oid Whig* for Nov. 4, when the Act had been in operation 
about a month, it is stated that, " since the suppression of gin^ the coarse pieces 
of beef, &c. hare sold much better at the several markets about town than before ; 
the lower class of people, being deprived of that liquor, have now good stomachs ;'* 
and the writer observes that " this must make meat cheaper generally, for if the 
coarse pieces fetch a price, the best pieces must be lowered." Some temporary 
effect of this kind might be produced at first, but the evasion of the Act soon 
became so extensive as to render its restrictions worse than useless. The num- 
ber of offenders against the law was bo great, that there were presently a number 
uf informers, in spite of the personal hazard attending the occupation. They 
were pelted in the streets, and one of them was actually murdered by the popu- 
lace. The newspapers of October 23rd announced that several apothecaries and 
chemists had been convicted, and had paid the penalty of 100^. for evading the 
Act. According to Lord Chobnondcley's speech, it appears that even magis- 
trates endangered their safety in the execution of this law ; and between intimi- 
dation and the expenses of prosecution, it became a dead letter, while the people 
were more than ever addicted to the use of ardent spirits. Before the Act was 
put in force, eight of tlie justices at Hicks' Hall made a report, which showed 
that within Westminster, Holborn, the Tower and Finsbury divisions, exclusive 
ofJLondon and Southwark, there were 7044 houses and shops in which spirituous 
liquors were sold, and this they believed to be short of the true number: they 
computed that there were not fewer than 20,000 such houses within the bills of 
mortality. At present the number of gin-shops in the metropolis, taking its 
limits in their widest sense, is under 6000, though the population has increased 
threefold. In I74'i the Gin Act was modi6cd, after six years of vexatious and 
unprofitable trial, during two years of which period '3000 persons were convicted 
of offences against the law. 

Above half a century elapsed after the defeat of Sir Robert Walpolc's Excise 
scheme before any minister ventured again to enter upon the consideration of 
DCW Excise dutien. Two at least of Mr. Pitt's predecessors had been afraid of 
proposing any fresh taxes of this nature ; but he successfully carried measures 
of the very same nature as those wliich Walpolc was compelled to abandon. In 
17^ he imposed an Excise duty on bricks, and several classes of traders were 
compelled to take out licences ; and in 1786 he proposed to transfer the greater 
part of the duty on foreign wines from the Customs to the Excise, as a means of 
preventing extensive frauds upon the revenue : for even allowing the consumption 
to have been only equal to what it was in 1750, the revenue suffered an annual 
loss of 280,000/. Walpole's scheme relating to tobacco would have rendered 
necessary an *' army ** of 126 additional excisemen : Mr. Pitt*s ])lan respecting 
the wiue-duty required an addition of 167 ofhcers to the Excise establishment. 
The winc-mcrchants of London and their brethren in the country represented 
the difficulty, if not the impossibility, of subjecting wine to the Excise laws, 
and the danger uf extending those laws ; but a great change had taken place in 
the public mind in the course of half a century, and the people remained per- 



fectly quiescent. Sir divloions took place on the bill, but the minority never 
exceeded 38. In order to put an end to the smuggling of tobacco, by which the 
revenue sustained a loss of 3tt0.000/. a-year (out of 12 million lbs. consumed 5 
millions were smuggled), the same minister proposed in 1789 to transfer the 
greater part of the duty from the Customs to the Kxcise, and, of course, to sub- 
ject the manufacturer to the survey of the exciseman. On this occasion he 
alluded to the success of the transfer of duties in regard to wine ; and although a 
few members expressed their disapprobation of the extension of the Excise 
system, the measure was carried through both Houses with great ease. In the 
following year a motion for the repeal of the Excise duty on tobacco was 
brought forward, and was supported by 147 votes ; but it was resisted by the 
minister, who had a majority of 41. He showed that the change effected in 
Che previous session was already benefitting the country at the rate of 300,000/. 

Pitt could now carry any fiscal measures which he seriously thought neces- 
sary ; and in 1793 not fewer than twenty-nine articles were subject to the Excise 
laws, and the gross amount of this branch of revenue was about ten millions and 
a half. In 1797 the number of officers employed in England was 4777. The 
highest amount which the Excise produced in any one year, for England, was 
27,400,300/. in 18*21 ; and the largest number of officers in this department, for 
the United Kingdom, was 7986 in 1815. their salaries amounting to 904,922/. 
Between 1824 and 1835 duties were transferred to the Customs, which yielded 
] l.2.'\8,300/. a-year, and others were entirely repealed, amounting to 6.782,000/., 
making together 18,020,300/. The duty on several articles has also been 
reduced. The amount of duty paid into the chief office, in 1829, for the ' London 
Collection,' was 6,013,159/.. and in 1835 only 1,462,919/. In 1841 the gross 
Excise revenue for the United Kingdom was 15,477,674/., and the charges of 
collection amounted to 1.047,360/., or 6/. I5.¥. ^d. per cent. At present only ten 
articles are suViject to the Excise Duty, namely, auctions, bricks, glass, hops, 
licences, malt, paper, soap, British spirits, and vinegar. 

In 1835 the number of traders in England, Ireland, and Scotland, who were 
surveyed periodically by Excise officers, was 588,000, divided into five classes. 
Firstly, persons visited for the purpose of charging the "growing*' duties, as 
maltsters, soap-makers, brick-makers, paper-makers, &c. Secondly, persons 
who paid a licence according to the extent of their business, as brewers and 
tobacconists. Thirdly, innkeepers and retailers of beer, and others who dealt in 
articles upon which an Excise duty was levied. Fourthly, persons who dealt in 
tea, coffee, pepper, tobacco, and other articles which paid Customs duties ; and, 
lastly, there were others who paid no duty, but were subject to a cautionary sur- 
vey — tallow-melters. for example, as a check upon soap-makers. The cost of 
these surveys amounted to 533,902/. for the English country Collections, and to 
4 1 ,390/. for the London Collection. The duty on spirits in the London Collec- 
tion amounted to 928,556/., and on soap to 208,266/. The limits of the district 
in which the chief office is situated excludes parts of the metropolis, so that the 
above statements do not afford a correct notion of its relative importance. Some 
traders who live in London go out of London to pay their duties, those who 




reside just beyond the extremity of Southwark paying at Greenwich in the 
Rochester Collection ; and those in a part of St. Pancras parish arc in the Hert- 
ford Collection, while a trader living near Croydon pays hia dulies in BrouU 
Street In 1835 three diatillerieB at Bromley, Whitechapel, and Thames Bank 
contributed 622,000/., and two soap-manufacturers in the metropolitan district 
paid 150,000/., but not all of them at the chief office. Since 1835 several of 
the Burveyg have been abolished either by acts of Parliament or by diroetiun 
of the Treasury. Thus, above 310,000 dealers in tea, wine, tobacco, and brewera 
have been exempted from Excise control. The number of surveys in one year 
of tea, wine, and tobacco dealers was about fifteen millions; 1,657,950 permits 
were annually required before goods in certain quantities could leave their 
premises ; and 778,988 stock-books were supplied to them to keep an account of 
their stock and sales. These administrative improvements are of real practical 
value, and the restrictions so long insisted upon are proved on the whole to have 
been useless 

We have now to speak of the establishment in Broad Street, which is charged 
with the collection and management of the Excise revenue. Before 1823 the 
Excise revenue in Scotland and Ireland was managed by separate boards, con* 
sisting all together of twelve commissioners, each board being independent of the 
English board. The business is now better conducted by seven instead of 

iHmli of knAiie Ul)ler.J 

twenty-one coramiasioners. The Chairman has a salary of 2000/. a year; the 
Deputy-Chairman has 1500'., and the other Commissioners have 1200/. per 
annum each. The Commissioners hold courts, and decide summarily in 
cases of infraction of the Excise laws. Formerly the Board never had any com- 
munication with traders, except by verbal messages through their officers, but 
since 1838 they have adopted the plan of giving written answers. The number 



of perflons employed at the chief office is about five hundred, who were princi- 
pally distributed in the following departments, in 1835 :— The 7 Commis- 
sioners, who constitute the Board ; employed in the Secretary's office, "20 
persons ; in the Correspondents' office, 30 ; in the Solicitors', 24, the two latter 
offices having each subdivisions for the Scotch and Irish business. In the 
Accountants' office there were 72 persons, with similar subdivisions; in the 
Rcceiver-Generars department, 112, and 34 in that of the Comptroller-General; 
8 in the Auditor's office; 8 in the Security office; 10 in the Store office; 5 in the 
Diary office. The number of Surveying General Examiners was 112. Many 
important changfcs have taken place in the org-anization of the chief office since 
1835. The departments of Account for England, Scotland, and Ireland have 
been consolidated; that of Comptroller of Cash has been abolished; the Comp- 
troller-General and Auditor-General's department have been consolidated. The 
Excise Printing-office was abolished by authority of the Treasury in 1841; but 
a Distillery, for the re-distillation of smuggled foreign spirits, is still under the 
management of the chief office. In the first twenty years after the peace consi- 
derable reductions were made in the Excise Office, in consequence of duties being 
abolished. The number on the English establishment reduced in these twenty 
years was 847. The total repeat of the salt duty was followed by the reduction 
of 196 officers; salaries, 18,962/. By the repeal of the leather duty 30 officers 
were reduced, salaries 336*2/.; by the repeal of the beer duty 228 officers, salaries 
24,045/.; of the duty on printed cottons by the reduction of 148 officers, salaries 
ir),064A ; and the reduction of the duty on candles was followed by a reduction 
of 207 officers, whose salaries amounted lo 22,690/. In 1797 the Excise esta- 
blishment was considered to be in so efficient a state, and so well managed, that 
Mr. Pitt pointed it out as a model for other public departments. 

The outdoor business in London is conducted by twelve General Surveyors, 
to each of whom is as!>igned a district called a " survey," and these arc broken 
up into about fifty smaller divisions, in each of which a house is rented for the 
business of the department. The English country establishment, in 1835, consisted 
of 55 Collectors and 2 Supernumeraries, 61 Clerks, 316 Supervisors, 1023 Divi- 
sions, 1499 Ride officers, 68 Permanent Assistants and 7 temporary, 54 Supernu- 
meraries, and 104 Permit Writers. The fifly-five Collections in England and 
Wales (exclusive of London) are divided into 315 districts, and these districts 
into ''ridrs" and "foot-walks.'* Where the traders are scattered, and the officer 
is required to keep a horse, it is called a ride ; but where they are more nume- 
rous, and a horse is not necessary, it it called a division or foot-walk. The 
circuit of a *' ride '* is about eighteen miles, and that of a division is under six- 
teen. The Collector, the chief officer of a *' Collection,** is allowed a clerk, and 
visits each market-town eight times in the course of a year, to receive the 
duties and to transact other business connected with the department, besides 
having to attend to matters relating to the discipline and efficiency of the service. 
The number of officers in a Collection varies from forty to ninety. The super- 
visors are in charge of a "'district," and next come the ride and division officers, 
whose operations he constantly checks by surveying, at uncertain times, the same 
f^cmiies. The labours of a supervisor and the officers under him arc otten very 



heavy. The latter are called upon to survey manufacturing processes at the 
most untimely hours. Before going out each day the officer leaves a memoran- 
dum behind him, stating the places he intends to survcyi and the order in which 
he will visit them, and he is obliged to record the hour and minute when he 
commences each survey. He is never sure that the Supervisor will not rc- 
survcy his work, and if errors arc discovered they must be entered in the Supcr- 
risor'i '* diary." These diaries are transmitted to the ehiei office in London 
every two mouths, and no officer is promoted without a strict examination into 
them» in reference to his efficiency. The Surveying-General Kxamincr is a 
check upon the Supervisors^ and is dispatched from the chief office to a certain 
district, without any previous intimation. When a supervisor's character is 
taken out for promotion, his books are examined for one year, and the books of 
all the oflicers under him for a quarter of a year ; all the accounts arc recast, 
and if iu ihc books of the officers crroi-s arc discovered, the supervisor is quite as 
responsible as if they had taken place in his own books; and a certain degree of 
neglect on his part would retard liis promotion. This inquiry is conducted by 
the country examiners; and when this has been done, the investigation is taken 
up by a surveying-general examiner, fur the purpose of ascertaining the disposal 
of the supervisor's time : whether it has been judiciously employed or not ; 
^ whether he has been too long employed on a duty which ought to have occupied 
^ a shorter period, &c. Two months arc required for completing the investigation ; 
and when the report is laid before the Board the name of the officer is not given. 
The clerks of the Diary office have all been distinguished for their ability as 
supervisors. No one is promoted unless, having served a certain fixed period in 
one grade, he petitions for advancement, but this involves the rigid examination 
just alluded to, which is technically termed "taking out a character." It is now 
doubted whether Mr. Pitt's plan for the periodical removal of officers from one 
district to another is attended with so much advantage to the service as has 
generally been supposed. A corrupt officer will endeavour to effect a collusion 
with the trader of another district, and the fraudulent trader will attemjit to 
corrupt the new officer. Frequent removals also interfere with the comfort of 
families, and interrupt education. About 1100 officers change their residences 
each year. 
K Previous to 176S the Excise Office was on the west side uf Ironmonger Lane : 
^ it waa formerly the mansion of Sir J. Frederick. In 1768 the trustees of the 
Caresham estates obtained an act to enable them to make over the ground whereon 
Gresham College stood to the Crown for a pcr|!etuttl rent of 500/. per annum. 
•' For this paltry consideration," says Mr. Burgon, in his ' Life and Times of Sir 
Thomas Gresham/ " was Gresham College annihilated ; nay, the very site of it 
parted with for ever.*' He adds : — " Will it be believed that the City and the 
Mercer's Company further agreed to pay conjointly, out of their respective shares 
of the Gresham estate, ISOO/. to the Commissioners of his Majesty's Excise, to- 
wards the charge of pulling down the College and building an Excise Office." 
The dismantling of the College was begun on the 8th of August, 1768. The 
Excise Office is plain in design, but of most commanding aspect. The merits of 
thii edifice arc known far less extensively than many others of inferior character 



There arc architects of the present day who state that for grandeur of mass an2 
greatness of manner, combined with simplicity, it is not surpassed by any building 
in the metropolis. It consists of two ranges, one of stone, the other of brick, sepa- 
rated from each other by a large court, which, during the re-building of the 
Royal Exchange, has been temporarily used by the mercantile and shipping 
interests as an Exchange. The entrance to each structure is by a staircase in 
the centre, which leads by a long passage to the various apartments of the 
commissioners and clerks. The architect of the Excise Office was Mr. James 


1-i.Lbv utttvm iki^iui^Vii 


tUtetiar itf MsKluM Tulori' Uall, rbrM<lii>-Mll« IjUmU] 



T i« with great infititutions as with great men — if they would preserve their 
reputation unimpaired, they should never survive the loss of their digtioguishinff 
powers ; or, we may rather say» the case of the institution is the worst, as being 
in every respect the most injurious of the two. The accidents of life die with 
the man, and are forgoiten, leaving all that is truly worthy of remembrance alone 
to be remembered; but institutions unfortunately will not die except by a 
alow, lingering process that too often wears out alike our patience and our gra- 
titudc, and at the same time makes us confound right and wrong together, by 
teafhing us, however unconsciously, to infer their jtast from their present un- 
fitncaa. Saddening are the degradations to which they are subject through this 
jnforiunatc tenacity of life. Who, for instance, can read without regret of the 
once mighty fellowships of London, being told by authority that their " ruling 
bodies are in effect mere trustees for charitable purposes nr chartered festivals," 

VOL. V. 1 



and that the " freemen and liverymen, or commonalty, are persons entitled to 
participate in these charities, to partake of the feasts of the Company, and quali* 
ficd to bo promoted to the office of trustees ; and in this light alone are the 
different orders of the Companies to be viewed" ? • It may be true; but, rather 
than thnt such things should have been said, one cannot but heartily wish that 
the Companies had manfully perished in the breach when Charles II. opened 
his quo vnrranto battery against them, and, after destroying their inflcpendence, 
left them to sink into inglorious inactivity. But the Commissioners in the above 
passage refer only to the principal Companies, those which had grown so rich in 
the days of their prosperity as to have charities that now, in their decUnc, re- 
quire management — funds that will support " chartered festivals;" but how is it 
with the others? Why, whilst some have disappeared altogether, the Musicians, 
alas! are "very poor, and in debt to their treasurer," and the Masons can only 
occasionally — and the occasions are very infrequent — have a dinner even on 
Lord Mayors* days? But the case that most touches our sympathies is that of 
the Pinmakcrs; there is a romance and a pathos about their position inexpres- 
sibly attractive and touching : *' No returns relating to any bindings or ad- 
missions to the Company, whether in right of patrimony or otherwise, appear in 
the Chamberlain's books within the last forty years. It is supposed that one or 
two individuals belonging to the Company are yet Uving,"t bearing about with 
them, no doubt, in their mysterious obscurity, a high consciousness of the unsus- 
pected dignities that have centered in their persons: but they arc probably poor, 
as well as proud, and therefore doubly resentful of the neglect with which they 
have been treated : the very Commissioners said not a word more about them, — 
did not even propose a commission of discovery to restore them to the civic 
brotherhood ; so they will die and make no sign, — the very skies looking as 
bright or as dull as usualj Cheapside in a state of perfect unconsciousness, — 
brother corporators dining, or talking of dining, at the very instant, haply, that 
the last of the " Pin-makers " is leaving the world. 

But now, forgetting awhile what the Companies arc, let us sec what they were 
three or four centuries ago. 

It is the morning of the festival of Corpus Christi ; and the Skiuners are 
rapidly thronging into the hall, in their now suits or liveries, and falling into 
their places in the procession that is being formed. As they go forth, and pass 
along the principal streets, most imposing is the appearance they present. Scat- 
tered at intervals along the line are seen the lights of above a hundred waxen 
torches " costly garnished," and among the diifercnt bodies tnclndcd in the pro- 
cession arc some two hundred clerks and priests, in surplices and copes, singing. 
After these come the Sheriffs' servants, then the clerks of the compters, the 
Sheriffs* chaplains, the Mayor's sergeants^ the Common Council, the Mayor and 
Aldermen in their brilliant scarlet robes; and, lastly, the members of the Com- 
pany which it is the business of the day to honour, the Skinners, male and female. 
The church of St. Lawrence, in the Poultry, is their destination, where they 
all advance up to the altar of Coryms Christi, and make their offerings, and then 
stay whilst mass is performed. From the church they return in the same state 
to the hall to dinner. Extensive are the preparations forso numerous a company. 
Besides the principal and the side-tables in the hall, there are tables laid out 

* Corporatipn Commiwion, Second Report, lotrodaotion, p. 30. f Repor^ p 290. 








in all the chief apartments of the building, for the use of the gucata and their 
attendants : the officers of the Company occupying one, the maidens another, the 
players and the minstrels a third, and so on. Plate is glittering on every side ; 
the choice hangings are exciting admiration ; the materials for the ]>ageant sus- 
pended from the roof attract many an inquiring gUincc ; the fragrance of the 
precious Indian sandal-wood is filling the atmosphere, though not altogether 
to the exclusion of the still more precious exhalations which come stealing up to 
the nose and thence downward into the heart of the anxious epicures, who you 
may perceive looking on with a sort of uneasy, abstracted air. whilst the true 
business of the day — the election of the Masters and Wardens— is going on in the 
great parlour, whither all the Assistants (the executive of the Company) have 
retired: the said epicures know, if you do not, to how many accidents flesh is 
heir in the kitchen, how easily the exact point of perfection l>ctween too much 
ftod too little done may be missed in the roasted swans, or the exquisite flavoul 
of the mortrewcs degenerate into coarseness or insipidity, if the cook swerves but 
A hair's breadth from the true proportions of the materials. The guests now 
seat themselves, the ladies according to their rank at the different tables, but in 
the best places at each ; the Lady-Mayoress with the Sheriffs* ladies sitting, of 
course, at the principal board, with the distinguished guests of the day ; the 
noblemen and others, with the Priors of the great conventual establishments of 
Xiondon — St. Mary Overies, St. Bartholomew, and Christ Church. Of the 
dinner itself what shall wc say that can adequately describe its variety, pro- 
fuAion, and costliness, or the skill with which it has been prepared? The boars* 
heads and the mighty barons of beef seem almost to require an apology for 
their introduction amidst the delicacies that surround them in the upper division 
of the table (the part above the stately salt cellar), where we see dishes of 
brawn, fat swans, congor and sea-hog, dishes of " great birds with little ones toge- 
ther/* dishes of Leche Lombard, mode of "pork pounded in a mortar with eggs, 
raisins, dates, su^ar, salt, pepper, spices, milk of almonds, and red wine, the 
whole boiled in a bladder/' and we know nut how many other dishes of similarly 
elaborate composition ; whilst the " subtleties" so " marvellously cunning 
^wrought," tell in allegory the history of the Company, and of the Saviour as 
its patron, and reveal to us the artist — if not exactly the hero — as cook. 
After dinner, whilst the spice-bread, hippoeras, and comfits go round, the election 
ceremonies lake place. The Master and Wardens enter with garlands on their 
heads, preceded by the minstrels playing, and the beadle; then the garlands arc 
taken oif, and after a little show of trying whose heads among the Assistants the 
•aid garlands best fit, it is found, by a remarkable coincidence, that ihe persons 
previously chosen are the right wearers. The oath of office is then administered; 
bcgioning, in the case of the Wardens, with an injunction Ihat they shall swear 
that ihey will well and truly occupy the oflice, that they shall ' arear ' no new 
cuatomsi nor bind the commonalty of the said craft to any new charges, nor yet 
discharge any duty to their hurt ; and that they shall not lay down any of their 
good old customs, or acts written, without the assent of the said commonalty. 
With renewed ceremony a cup is next brought in, from which the old Master 
and old Wardens drink to the new Master and new Wardens, who finally assume 
their garlands, and are duly acknowledged by the fralernitv. 



The play is now ca^rrly looked For ; tlie tables are cleared away, the pageant 
Ib let down from the rouf; the actors, nine in number, approach, and the entire 
audience is apccdiiy engrossed in the history of Noah's flood. There remains 
but to pay for all the good things enjoyed — the members of the Company at a 
fixed rate for themselves, and at the Wardens' discretion for the guests they may 
have individually invited — to drink another cup of hippocras, and to depart. 
The annual solemnities are not, however, finished till the Sunday following, 
when, according to the ordinances (we transcribe from the Fishmongers*), the 
members " afore mete tyme" shall " be all present in the same church in their 
livery aforesaid, there to hear a solemn mass or requiem for all the souls of the 
same fraternity, and for all Cliristian souls ; and at which mass the priest of the 
same fraternity, openly in the pulpit shall rehearse and recommend to all good 
prayers, by name, all the brethren and sisters, quick and dead, of the foresaid 
fraternity, and all Christians;" after which there is another, but minor feast, and 
then the Uvcries arc paid for. 

Following the ncwly-electcd officers into the details of the business that 
awaited them, we beg^n to have some conception of the true nature of a metro- 
politan company at the period referred to. And first, as to their chief duty^the 
domestic government of the craft. This comprised many parts; among which 
the ordinary matters of binding apprentices, admitting freemen, and so on, 
formed but the least important. If there were young men belonging to the 
craft who, giving themselves up to idleness and unlawful games, wandered 
about as vagabonds within the City, it was the duty of the Master and Wardens 
to desire aad require them to work for reasonable wages, and to take them before 
the Mayor and Aldermen for punishment if they refused. If members of the 
Company were rebellious to its ordinances, as by taking unsold wares into the 
country, or by employing " forcns." that is, persons not free of the craft, and 
persisting therein, or were found to have spoken with disrespect of its officers, 
the Master and Wardens again had to bring back the rebel and the slanderer to 
due subjection and reverence, either by entreaties, or by the still more cogent 
influences of fine and imprisonment. A case in the Grocers' books may here be 
mentioned. One Simon Potkin, of the Key, at Aldgatc, having been fined by 
the Chamberlain, said, with humorous audacity, that he had given money to 
the Masters of his Company that he might sell at his own will. He got into 
trouble with his Company in consequence, but was finally pardoned on paying 
3*. 4d fur a swan to be eaten by the Masters, out of which he was allowed 
his own share. This took place under the mayoralty of Whittington, who waa 
particularly watchful of the misdeeds of the retail publicans. Safe keeping of 
the trade secrets was a matter most carefully enjoined and provided for, not only 
in the oath taken by all freemen, but in specific ordinances, to disobey which 
subjected the offender to the heaviest displeasure of the Company, and of course 
to punishment. The names of craft and mystery, so often applied to the trades, 
are said to be from this source, though Madox derives them from the French, 
who, he remarks, use mextiere for a craft, art, or employment. The preventing 
or arranging disputes among the members formed another important branch of 
the duties of the officers. Among the ordinances of the Grocers was one to the 
effect, that no member of the craft, should take the houpR of a neighbour who 






«]bo belonged to the fraternity a^inst his wish, or do anything to enhance his 
rent, on penalty of a heavy line. In caKcs of personal quarrel, where une party 
was evidently the offender, he was compelled to ask forgiveness; and in others, 
allifran inelfectua) attempt at mediation, parties were duly permitted to "go to 
the law." Apprentices, of course, were still more directly beneath the super- 
vision and control of the Master and Wardens; and some curious records exist in 
connexion with the discipline on this subject in the books of the Companies, as 
noticed in Mr, Herbert's valuable work.* Here is an example of the correction 
of an apprentice for a faux pas of a particular nature. The Wardens caused to 
be made two porters* frocks, like porters of crafts, and two hoods of the same 
canvas, made after vizor fashion> with a space for the mouth and the eyes left 
open only ; wherein, the next court-day, vrithin the parlour^ two tall men, having 
the said frocks upon them, because they should not be known, (for otherwise the 
•• bold prentices" wuuld no doubt have ctfectnally prevented any more such kijid 
attentions from the same quarter,) " came in with twopenuyworth of birchen rods* 
and there, in presence of the said Master and Wardens, withouten any words 
speaking, they pulled off the doublet and shirt of the said John Rolls, and there 
upun him (being naked) they spent all the said rods, for his said unthrifty de- 
meanour." Sumptuary laws also occupied the attention of the heads of the 
fraternity, and more particularly with regard to the class just mentioned, the 
apprentices. Those in the Ironmongers* Company, for instance, were to dress 
••in such wise that it be no dishonesty to the Company, but that they be appa- 
relled reasonable and honest, that is to say, for the holy days, hose, ' throwts/ 
ahirts, doublets^ coats, gowns or cloaks, with othe^ necessaries, such as may he 
conveniently honest and clean;" and on thc^^prking day such as may be 
honest and profitable to keep them from cold and wet;'* and then it is empha- 
tically added, " they shall not suffer their hair to grow long.** Fishmongers' 
apprentices were directed by their Company to wear a gown in the fish-market, 
but not out of it. As to the more general application of sumptuary laws, we 
find some noticeable entries in the books of the Merchant Tailors; in 1574 a 
member was committed to ]>rison " for that he came to this house in a cloak of 
pepadorc, a pair of hose lined with taffety. and a shirt edged with silver, con- 
trar)' to the ordinances." Another member, it appears, was warned that he had 
on •' apparel not fit for his abilities to wear," and enjoined reformation. But the 
most amusing illustration of the interference of the Companies in this matter is 
that given by Malcolm, on the authority of the Ironmongers' books. Elizabeth, 
it is ^vell known, was scarcely less anxious about the dress of her subjects than 
about her own, with the difference, however, that her anxiety was to restrain the 
love of splendour in the one case, and to encourage it in the other. So, fresh orders 
to her milliners, and fresh precepts to the Cumpanies, flew thick and fast, and it was 
in consequence of one of the latter that the citizens wore regaled one day with a 
rich bit of fun at Bishopsgate, where two members of the Ironmongers' and two 
of the Grocers' Companies were found stationed as early as seven o'clock to 
examine the habits of every one who passed through. Lastly, there remain 
to be noticed, among the regular duties of the othcers of the Companies, the 
Trade Searches, when the Grocers' Wardens were bidden " to go and essayen 
weights, powders, confections, plaisters, ointments, and all other things belonging 
* ' Hutary uTllut Twelve great Livrry Cuinpiuiitv.' 



\o the same craft ;" those of the Fishmongers' to examine fish, the Vintners* to 
taste wines, the Merchant Tailors' to examine cloth, and measure the measure 
used in its sale, for which purpose they had a silver yard, with their arms en- 
graved upon it; and most of the other Companies had a like power. Where 
anything wrong was discovered, the process was very summary— seizure of the 
article, if worth seizing, destruction if it were not, with the addition of imprison- 
ment in very bad cases. In I57I, certain makers of comfits being accused of 
mingling starch with the sugar in their delicacies, the stock — " a good quanlity** 
— of one of the chief offenders was put into a tub of water, and so consumed and 
poured out. That this power was really beneficial, and therefore necessary to 
such of the Companies as had it not, is evident from the petition presented to 
the Court of Aldermen by the Wax- Chandlers* Company in the reign of Ed- 
ward III., where they speak feelingly of their craft being '* greatly slandered of 
all the good folk of the said craft and of the City, for that they have not Masters 
chosen and sworn of the said craft*' before the Mayor and Aldermen, "as other 
crafts have, to oversee the defaults which be in their said crafts :" the power 
they desire was accordingly granted them, of naming four searchers, and their 
bye-laws were at the same time sanctioned, the first of which explains the rule 
by which the searchers would have to be guided: *'That no wax-chandler of the 
said craft make any torches, ta]>crs, jirykettes, nor none other manner of chan- 
dlcrie of wax mixed with rosin and code, but of good wax and wick ;" and to 
facilitate discovery of the wrong-doers, every chandler was to have a mark, 
" and it set to torches, torchetts, and tapers which he maketh." We learn from 
these bye-laws that the mcmbera of the trade were accustomed to lend out wax 
tapers for hire ; that the tapers were both round and square, and that it was cus- 
tomary for j)crsona to bring wax to them to be mudc into tapers at a certain 
charge for the making, and more particularly for " torches, torchetts, prykcttcs, 
or perchers, chaundele or tapers for women aycnst Candclmas." A few words 
on the chief places where the Trade Searches had generally to be pursued, or in 
other words, on the localities of the different London trades, may not be unac- 
ceptable. Cloth Fair was, as its name implies, the chief mart of the Merchant 
Tailors' commodities, Foster Lane ofthe Goldsmiths, ironmonger Lane of the Iron- 
mongers, Old Fish Street and Fish Street Hill of the Fishmongers, the Mercery 
'—a part of Cheapside between Bow Church and Friday Street — of the Mercers 
and Haberdashers, and who were previously on the other side, where the Mer- 
cers' Hall now stands. Silks and velvets appear to have formed the chief articles 
of trade with the Mercers, as they gradually resigned to the Haberdashers the 
sale of all the less important wares. The Haberdashers dealt in hats, millinery, 
small articles of jewellery, pins — a lucrative commodity — and a thousand other 
things, in addition to some of those which still belong to the trade. The Drapers 
did their chief business in Blackwell Hall, the site of the present Bankruptcy 
Court; the Grocers, or Pepperers, as they were once called, were mostly to be 
found in Sopcr Lane ; the Butchers in Cheapside, Newgate Market, and at the 
Stocks, the site of the present Mansion House; whilst the Tanners favoured the 
localities *' without Newgate" and " without Cripplcgate." 

In this grant of powers to the Wax Chandlers, we see one example of the juris- 
diction of the Mayor and Aldermen over the Companies; a jurisdiction so com- 
plete, from time immemorial, that Uic Brewers in 1435, addxessing the former^ 





tMcrn-n' Hull, ('liorti" 


style him *' their right worshipfHl and gracious lord and sovereign, the Mayor of 
London ;"' and precisely the same idea is conveyed, in different words, a century 
and a half later, when he is spoken of as " the Warden of all the Companies,*' 
The duties arising from the connection tetween the Companies and the Civic Cor- 
poration, therefore, form the second division of the duties of the officers of the 
former, and a great many unpleasant matters they involved. Some of them arc 
interesting as illustrative of the working of the system. Thus, for instance, as to the 
monopoly enjoyed by the Companies, wc maysec that wc should greatly err if wo 
looked Dpon the constitution of the Companies as framed for that especial object, 
naing the word monopoly in its present sense, though there is no doubt it 
had a great tendency to establish the evils that, under a different state of things, 
kftvo made the very idea hateful to us. But this tendency the more enlightened 
governors of the City made it their business to rejircss, and in a manner that 
must then have been tolerably effectual. The Brewers' records furnish a case in 
point, and Whittington is again one of the principal actors. In 1422 he laid an 
information before his successor in the Mayoralty, Robert Chichcle, in con- 
sequence of which the latter "sent for the Masters and twelve of the most worthy 
of our Company to appear at the Guildhall ; to whom John Fray, the Recorder, 
objected a breach of government, for which 20/. should be forfeited, for selling 
dear ale. After much dispute about the price and quality of malt, wherein 



Whittington, the late Mayor, declared that the 'brewers had ridden into the 
country and forestalled the malt to raise its price,' they were convicted in the 
l^enalty of 20/. ; which objecting to, the Masters were ordered to be kept in 
prison in the Chamberlain's custody until they should pay it, or find security 
for the payment thereof.** Another feature of the connection, arising no doubt 
from the one just referred to, though we should ho]>c not materially influencing 
it, is the system of making presents to the Mayor, of which we find many exam- 
ples ; among them, " for two pipes of red wine, to Richard Whittington*8 huller," 
a "boar, price 20*., and an ox, price 17a-.** to William Waldcrne, Mayor in 
1422-3, who "behaved well to the Company until two or three weeks before his 
retirement from office,*' when he began to annoy them, and they thus " assuaged 
his displeasure." When these presents took a more circuitous route, the object was 
openly acknowledged, as in an entry in 1423, in the Brewers* books, of "money 
given to divers Serjeants of the Mayor, for to be good friends to our craft." 
After all there is nothing here to fix any stain of corruption on the eminent civic 
governors of the period; though some of them, thinking very rightly that the 
mere acceptance of such gifts not only looked like bribery, but might really 
have that tendency at times, eschewed them altogether. Under the date 1423 
we read, that "William Crowmere, Mayor this year, was a good man, and well 
pleased all the citizens, especially the Brewers; when the Masters offered gifts 
to him, he thanked them, but would not receive any.** The general domestic 
government of London, of course, afforded many points of intimate connection 
between the officers of the Companies and of the City ; when there was an Exchange 
to be erected, or a city ditch to -be cleansed, precepts came from the Mayor 
to the different Masters and Wardens, to collect the sum of money to which their 
respective fraternities had been assessed, as their fair share of the expenses. 
Setting the poor to )vork, a still more weighty undertaking, was accomplished in 
the same way. Bu|l the most important labours which the Companies and the 
city undertook in matters relating to the domestic economy of London, was the 
supply of com and coal in times of scarcity, to the poorer citizens, at a moderate 
price. The commencement of the custom, as to corn, may be dated from the 
early part of the fourteenth century, when, with that princely liberality that dis- 
tinguished so many of the citizens of London in early times. Sir Simon Eyre 
built a public granary at Lcadenhall, and Sir Stephen Brown sent out 
ships to Dantzic, "causing [rye] corn to be brought from thence, whereby he 
brought down the price of wheat from 'ix. the bushel to Itsa than half the money, 
for corn was then so scarce in England that poor people were enforced to make 
their bread of ' feamc * roots." * At first the cost of the supplies of com to the 
granary (made, of course, always when the corn was cheapest), was defrayed by 
loans and contributions from the Mayor and Aldermen, and sometimes the citi- 
lens, but in 1521 the Companies were called on to assist, and from that time pre- 
cepts of a similar nature followed with a most unsatisfactory frequency, until at 
last the Mayor and Aldermen had some difficulty in obtaining the sums required. 
The truth is. no dou^t, that there was a contmual lo>s on the business, and con- 
sequently that though funds were generally obtained, under the name of loans, 
they were in effect, gifts. The Companies were therefore desirous of leaving the 
^ matter entirely in the hands of the Lord Mayor and Aldermen, who were equally 

* Slew's Ijuivejr, etl. 1633. Ii. 69. 





desirous of leaving it with the Companies. In I57S an arrangement was finally 
concluded, that the Companies should provide the quantities of corn that it was 
deemed necetisary to have in store — 5000 quarters, and that the City should 
provide a place of deposit, which they did in the Bridge* house, on old London 
Bridge, where the garners were divided into twelve equal parts for the twelve 
great Companies (who seem to have had the general management imposed upon 
them)f and where mills and ovens were erected. This arrangement was soon 
disturbed hy the cupidity and meanness of the government, who frequently 
exhibited a desire to turn the affair, in various ways, to its own selfish advantage. 
So, when in 159^, Sir John Hawkins applied for the use of the granaries and 
ovens for the royal navy, the Companies touk the alarm ; and although Sir John 
understood and gave way to the Mayor's ri-asoning — that if the granaries were 
taken, the Companies would neglect making their provision and plead want of 
room, the latter saw in his acquiescence only a stronger proof that it was the com 
rather than the granaries he desiderated ; and obtained permission of the Com- 
mon Council to lay in stocks of grain on their own premises. This seems fur a 
time to have checked the Court ; who, however, in 162"2, returned to the charge, 
in a letter from James's Lord High Steward — the Duke of Lennox, and two 
other great officers of the household. It is addressed to — " Our loving friend* 
the Wardens and Assistants of the Company of Grocers: After our hearty 
commendations: Whereas, by the neglect of his Majesty's purveyors, his house 
is at this time altogether unfurnished with wheat, by means whereof there is a 
present want of 100 quarters of wheat for the service of his household* we do 
therefore pray and desire you, that out of your stock his Majesty may be sup- 
plied with 30 or 40 quarters of your best and sweetest wheat, until his own 
pTovisiuna may be brought in. the which we do faithfully promise shall be paid 
unto you again in November Aext, at the furthest ; and because it is intended 
that, by the exchange thereof, you shall lose no loss, we have therefore committed 
the care thereof to Mr. Harvey, one of his Majesty's officers of the Green Cloth, 
who shall see the same duly answered and brought into your granary by the 
time appointed ; and so, not doubting of your willing performances upon so 
present and needful occasion, we bid you. heartily, farewell. Your loving 
friends — Lenox; Thomas Kdmond ; John Suckling (father of the poet). White- 
hall, 27th September, 1622.** Sweet words, and irresistible! Mr. Harvey, 
who was in attendance on the Court when the letter was read, being called in, 
promised "so to mediate, that 10 quarters should bo taken in satisfaction of the 
whole demand," which were granted. Mr. Herbert adds, with a laudable sense of 
the bare possibility of its return, " whether it was ever repaid does not appear." 
At the fire of London the granaries were burnt, and never afterwards restored. 
The coal custom was so exactly of the same nature as that relating to corn, that 
it is unnecessary to make any further allusion to it. 

The last division of the business of the Companies is that relating to its con- 
nexion with the government, of which the royal application, incidentally referred 
to in the preceding passage, betokens in a great measure the character. The 
sovereigns of England, from the earliest times down to the extinction of the 
Stuart dynasty, looked upon the City of London generally, and the Companies 
in particular, aa a kind of reserve treasury, not, certainly, to be resorted to when 

I '22 


they could maTia^ very well without, but as undeniably theirs when they could 
not. The impudence, as we cannot but call it, with which Elisabeth applied 
for money in these quarters is really ludicrous. The Ironmongers once received 
from her the following exquisite specimen of the manner in which royalty bor- 
rows, in which the reader will not fail to remark how attentive the Queen 
had been to consider how they should get, as well as the conditions on which 
they were to lend, the sum demanded. " These." writes the stately Elizabeth, 
through her mouth-piece the Mayor, and, as we could fancy, with her ruff and 
stomacher looking stiffer and fiercer than ever, " these are to will and command 
you that forthwith you prepare in readiness the sum of 60/. of the stock of your 
hall, and if you have not so much in store, then you must borrow the same at 
interest, at the oidy costs and losses of your hall, to be lent to the Queen s 
Majesty for one whole year." Sec., and this they were to fail in at their " peril !" 
But there ia a still richer trait of the virgin Queen to be mentioned: having at 
one time, by these and similar means, got more money than she knew exactly 
what to do with} she actually made the citizens receive it back again in loans of 
from 50/. to 500/. each, on security of gold and silver plate, or other equally 
satisfactory deposits, nf. nere/i per cent. There u nothing in Swift or Fielding's 
fictitious satires to equal this touch of positive truth. Elizabeth was, at the 
same lime, too politic a guardian of her Exchequer to fill it by one method only : 
if the scourge could nut but be felt, still it was not necessary to make it always 
be felt in the same place ; so, borrowing a hint from the continental governments, 
she estahliHhcd in 1567 our first lottery, and her loving friends the Companies 
were immediately desired to avail Ihcmeelves of its advantages. They did so, 
and, whatever they thought of the result, it was no doubt satisfactory to the 
ingenious author. Unfortunately, however, when another lottery was set on fool 
for armour, in 1585, the Lord Mayor had to use, among his other arguments, one 
of a very suspicious nature, but which, it seems, the experience of the former 
rendered necessary; he had to assure the Companies that there should bo a 
"(rue delivery of the prizes to the winners/* and to add something about the 
appointment of n body of persons to see justice done. To quicken his own and 
the SherifTs zeal in " persuading every man to venture," her Majesty promised, 
in respect of the *' forward service of the said lottery,** one basin and one ewer, of 
100/. value, to each of them. The Merchant Tailors' books exhibit a very clear 
intimation of their ideas on the subject at the period in the following couplet:— 

" Oiip bird ill tlic hand is worth two in tlic wood ; 
I/v/Q get the great lot, it will do uh good." 

From forced loans and lotteries wc advance to the patents, a system of direct 
infringement upon the chief powers and rights of the Companies, for the most 
selfish purposes, and with the most reckless disregard of the certain evils that 
must accrue. The scheme was first directed against the Brewers' Company, but 
failed at the outset. With the Lcatherscllcrs it was more successful. One of the 
hangers-on of the court, Edward Parcy, obtained a patent from Elizabeth to 
search and seal all the leather through England, and found it, says Strype, •' a 
very gainful business to him;" but the whole body of persons connected* directly 
or indirectly, with the trade, mustered their forces, and exhibited so formidable 














DW .a^m 


an appearance that, to avoid a tumult, the patent was revoked. The wardens of 
the Lcathersellers* Company distinguished themselves greatly in this contest by 
their firm adherence to the rights of the fraternity lodged in their keeping, in 
spile of threats and actual imprisonment. But, notwithstanding these checks, the 
■chcme proceeded, till there were patentees for currants, salt, iron, powder, cards, 
C4ilf-skins. felts, leather, ox-shin boncH, train-oil, and many other articles. Hume 
observes, that when this list was once " read in the House, a member cried, ' Is 
not bread in the number ? ' ' Bread ! ' said every one with astonishment ; * Yes, 
I assure you,* replied he, ' if affairs go on at this rat« we shall have bread re- 
duced to a monopoly before the next Parliament,' " This system, so vicious in 
itself, as transferring powers from highly respectable bodies of men, who had a 
deep interest in using them for the benefit of the community, to single indivi- 
duals, whose only object or desire was to turn them to the greatest possible 
pecuniary advantage, was made infinitely worse by the practice of transfer of 
those powers as matters of bargain and sale from the original patentee to others; 
■" who,** remarks the author just mentioned, " were thereby enabled to raise com- 
modities to what price they pleased, and who put invincible restraints upon all 
commerce, industry, and emulation in the arts." It was in the reign of James 
that the system rose to its highest point, then began to decline, and at last fell to 
rise no more in 1041, when the Parliament fined severely two patentees for ob- 
taining a winc-liccnso from the King, Charles. We may conclude these notices 
of the connexion between the government and the Companies, by one or two of a 
more agreeable nature. Whenever any great public occasion rendered a pecu- 
niary demand upon the Companies reasonable, there seems to have been a 
liberality shown worthy of the metropolis ; they assisted largely in the early 
voyages of discovery that at different times lefl our shores, and more particularly 
those in which the two Cabots — father and son — were concerned. Whenever 



armieii were fitting out, their contingents formed a very considerable item in the 
whole: thus, on the Spaniards threatening us with their armada, the City fur- 
nished DO less than 10,000 men and 38 ships. In ordinary times the Companies 
could always furnish a respectable force for their own and the City's defence, and 
had their armouries attached to their halls, though it was not till 1572 that they 
had a regularly enrolled standing army. In that year they selected frona 
amongst their members 3000 of the " most sizeable and active young men," who 
were immediately placed in training, and subsequently reviewed by Elizabeth 
herself in Greenwich Park: a locality that reminds us of another feature uf the 
connexion between royalty and the Companies; the attendance of picked bodies 
of "handsome men, well and handsomely arrayed," to attend the Mayings in 
Greenwich ; and of the chief officers, with the Livery on all great state processions, 
as the entry of the sovereign into London, or of his bride, his coronation, or his 

From this glimpse into the economy of the metropolitan fraternities in their 
prosperous days, let us for a moment turn our eyes backward to their origin 
and rise. We have already in our preliminary remarks on Guildhall referred to 
the custom of frankpledge, which it is su]>po8cd formed the germ of the guilds, 
or, as we now call them, companies. When these guilds first assumed positive 
shape and efficiency is unknown, but the weavers of London received a charter 
80 early as the reign of Henry IL, and that only confirmed liberties previously 
enjoyed: this, say the Commissioners, is the oldest of the Companies. In the 


[Anns at tks Wnnfa Comfiiy.] 

tame reign, besides the licensed, there were no less than eighteen other London 
guilds, but unlicensed, and which were fined by the King in consequence. The only 
guild of which we know the exact origin is that referred to in the interesting 
story told by Stow in his account of Portsoken Ward, but which evidently was of 
a somewhat irregular nature: — '* In the days of King Edgar, more than six 
hundred years since, there were then thirteen knights or soldiers, well beloved 
of the King and realm, for services by them done, who requested to have a cer- 
tain portion of land on the cast part of the city, being left desolate and forsaken 
by the inhabitants, by reason of too much servitude : they besought the King to 
have this land with the liberty of a guild for ever. The King granted to their 




rwinest, with conditions following: to wit, that each of them should victoriously 
accomplish three combats, one above the ground, one under ground, and the 
third in the water; and, after this, at a certain day. in East Smithficld, they 
should run with spears against all comers ; all which was gloriously per- 
formed ; and the same day the King named it Knightcn Guild.'** And, we may 
add, the locality in question forms, either partially or entirely, the present ward 
of Portsoken. Of these early guilds, perhaps the most striking feature is their 
semi-religious character, of which we have given one illustration in the proces- 
sion to church on the election day, and the praying for the dead on the following 
Sunday ; — the designation of some of the Companies form^ another : thus we have 
the " Guild or fraternity of the Blessed Mary, the Virgin, of the Mystery of 
Drapers," and the " Guild or fraternity of the body of Christ of the Skinners.*' 
A chaplain was one of the regularly-constituted officers of all the larger Compa- 
nies. Although licensed, the guilds generally were not incorporated till the 
reign of Edward III., when that monarch, conscious of the growing strength and 
prosperity of the country through the instrumentality of the trades fraternities* 
raised them at once into the highest possible estimation and honour, by con- 
Ttrming — in many cases by letters patent — the privileges they had previously 
enjoyed more by suEfcrance than of right — and in return for the payment of the 
ferm — and then by enrolling himself as a member of one of them, the Merchant 
Tailors. About the same time it was ordained that all artificers and people of 
mysteries should each choose his own mystery before the next Candlemas, and 
that, having so chosen it, he should thenceforth use no other. Edward also 
transferred the right of electing members to Parliament from the ward representa- 
tives to the Trade Companies, another important influence in raising them to their 
subsequent power. The number of Companies sending members to the Com- 
mon Council towards the close of his reign was forty-eight. Among these the 
Saddlers, the Weavers, and Tapestry-makers were next in importance, as send- 
ing four members each, to the Grocers, Mercers. Drapers, Fishmongers. Gold- 
smiths, and Vintners, who sent six, and with them the Barbers ranked. It 
was not for a considerable time that the twelve great Companies assumed their 
final position as regards the other fraternities ; and many violent and occasionally 
bloody quarrels mark the history of the struggle for precedence. Their present 
order will be seen in the note below,f where we have given the complete list of 

• Sum't Siinfpy, rtl. 1633, p. 115. 

f LiMt of ths Companie* of London in the order of (Aeir precfdfnctj the Jlrti tiB*h« forming the Great Livrfy 
Cam^aniM, and thots tehicA ore extinct bting marktd in Italiea.-^\. Merc«n. 2. Cirocert. 3. Drapm, 
4. FuhmaogfTB. 6. GuIdaniitliA. 6. Skinnrrs. 7. Mercluuil Tailon. 6. Halierdaiihen. 9. StitUn. 
10. Iroumnofvn. It. Vintnen. 12. C1ollitrork«n. 13. Dyer*. 14. Breur#ra. 15. Lcalli?n«llm. 1(1. Pewttrmv. 
17. DArb«n. IS. Culler*. 19. Baken. 30. Wax Ctiiuiaien. 31. T«llow Clisudlers. 22. Atmoum* unci 
Bnstora. 23. Oriuden. 24. ButclMm. 2S. Saddlrn. 26. Carpenten. 27. CordwaimTs. 2<4. Pauilcr'Staiu- 
cfB. 39. Currirn. 30. Muoni. 31. PIuinVNn. 33. Iiuiliolilen. 33. Fuunden. 34. Poulletvn. Mt. Co<*ka, 
SS. Coopen. 37. BrickUyera. 3R. B<i^<>n. 3!>. Flrtchen. 40. UtaclumitlM. 41. Juioen. 43. Wravtn. 
43. Woolrnwi. 44. ScnFrnew. 46. Fniitewra. 46. Plutcren. 47. St-itioturrt. 48. Mrodiwr*. 49. Up- 
boldmn. M. Miuiciaiii. 51. Tunirr*. 53. Basket* nuiken. S3. Gluien. 61. Homcn. 66. Farrien, 
M. PWvion. 67. I^oirn. 3S. ApctJiecuries. 69. SbipwrighU. 60. S|fecUicIe-iniiken. 61. Cluck inak«rf. 
62. Gloven. 63. ComlMnak«n, 64. Fell-makers. 66. Framework Kniuera. 66. Silk-lliroweri. 67. 8Uk- 
6>l. Pin-maktri. 69. Ncedle-maken. 70. Oardenen. 1\. Soap-makert. 73. Titiplate-workert, 
73. Wberlwrigbta. 74. DultllenL. 73. Hathand-fnakcrt. 76. Palten-toaken. 77. Glaa Scllm. 78. Tuhaneo 
Pipdnaken. 79. Coarh aiid Harneti niaken. SO. Guri'maken. 81. Wire Drawers. 82. Long fioteatriit^ 
moktrt. %3. Flayraic-carl-makm. 84. Fan-makcn. 86. Woodmonff«n. 66. Starch-maAtrt. 87. Z^iaA- 
B8. Pamh Cterka. 68. Canna. 



the London Cumpaniea, including thoso which sprung up during the mania for 
iDcorporation that prevailed in the latter part of the liftccnth and beginning ol 
the sixteenth centuries, or just when, through a variety of concurring causes, 
but chiefly that the trade and commerce to be directed had become much too 
mighty a thing for tlio directors, the old faith in the necessity and value of the 
Companies was disappearing, and with that their faith their own energies. And 
thus when Charles II. Bought to destroy their independence by frightening them 
into a resignation of their rhartcrB, that he might re-grant them with such restric- 
tions as he saw Bt, having neither strength within uor without, they succumbed 
at once, and almost licked the dust off the feet of the spoiler in so doing. That 
to these causes rather than to the King's arbitrary proceedings we may attribute 
the decline of the Companies is evident, from the circumstance that, although at 
the Revolution of 1688 these proceedings were finally re\*erscd, the Companies. 
with the exception of those which possessed large charities, or of those who 
ttiU from peculiar causes continued in close connexion with their respective 
trades, steadily continued to decline from that time. Of the eighty-nine enume- 
rated in the list, eight arc practically extinct, and n ninth, the Parish 
Glcrks (the actors in the old miraclo plays), has no connexion with the 
municipality of Ltjndon. The others are divided by the Commissioners into 
three classes— 1. Companies still exercising an ciEcient control over their trade, 
namely, the Goldsmiths and the Apothecaries. Both these also belong to class 

2. Companies exercising the right of search, or marking wares, &c. ; in which 
are included the Stationers* Company, at whose Hall all copyright books 
must 1)0 " entered;" the Gunmakcrs, who prove all the guns made in the City; 
the Founders, who test and mark weights; the Saddlers, who examine the work- 
manship of saddles ; and, in a lesser degree, the Painters, who issue a trade-price 
list of some authority ; and the Pcwtcrcrs and Plumbers^ who make assays, 

3. Companies, into which persons carrying on certain occupations in the City are 
compelled to enter: such are the Apothecaries, Brewers, Pewtercrs, Builders, 
Barbers, BuUcrs. Saddlers, Painter Staincrs, Plumbers, Innholders, Founders, 
Poulterers. Cooks, Weavers, Scriveners, Farriers, Spectacle Makers, Clock 
Makers, Silk Throwers, Distillers, Tobacco Pipe Makers, and Carmen. This 
lastmcntionod fraternity is the only one that exclusively consists of persons 
belonging to the trade, though the Stationers and the Apothecaries, with one or 
two others, have a majority of such members. Admission into the body of free- 
men is obtained by birth, apprenticeship, purchase, or gift; and thence into the 
livery, in most cases at the pleasure of the parly, on payment of the fees, which 
are generally light where the claim arises from patrimony or servitude, but other- 
wise vary from a few pounds to as much as 200 guineas. The government of 
most of the com]>anies is now intrusted to Courts of Assistants, formed from the 
senior members uf the livery, and comprising Master, Senior and Junior War- 
dens, and a certain number of assistants, who succeed in rotation to the higher 
offices. Amonfrth'.^ officers and classes who have disappeared from the Compa- 
nies, or changed their designation, are the Pilgrim, the ancient head of the Mer- 
chant Tailors, so called from his travelling for thL-iii : thu Miister Bachelor and 
Budge Bachelor of the Drapers; the Bachelor in foiiis of the Skinners; with 
the Yeomanr)' of most of the touipanies. who seem to have been the old freemen. 

Itccurring to the words of the Commissioners, in which they describe the ex- 







iitiiig Companies as so many trusteeships for " charitable purposes*' and *' char- 
tered festivals," it is worthy of observation that one of the earliest objects sougut 
by the guild, in some instances apparently their primary one. was the foundation 
of a common stock, for the relief of poor or decayed members. Large funds were 
established in course of time, and the charitable character thus attached to the 
Company led to their being chosen as trustees for the caro and management of 
R variety of other charities founded by benevolent persons; who, in the earlier 
periods of metropolitan history, were so numerous, that Stow devotes some five- 
and-twenty folio pages of his 'Survey' to the mere enumcratioa of their acts, 
under the appropriate aftid characteristic title of the Honour of Citizens and 
Worthiness of Men: a noble chapter in the history of London. The variety of 
these charities is as remarkable as their entire amount muut be magniiicenl; 
comprising as they do ]>ensions to decayed members, almshouses, innumerable 
gifts of money to the poor, funds for the support of hospitals, schools, exhibitions 
at the universities, prisoners in the city gaols, for lectures and sermons, 
donations to distressed clergymen, and so on through an interminable list. 
The most interesting, perhaps also the most valuable, of the charities has yet 
to be mentioned — the loans of dificrcnt sums to young beginners in business, to 
an amount, and for a time, amply sufficient to start them fairly in life with every 
expectation of a prosperous career. Some idea of the magnitude of the Com- 
panies* charities, on the whole, may be derived from two illustrations. The 
Charity Commissioners stated that the Goldsmiths' Company's annual payments 
to their poor alone amounted to about 2836/. ; and we learn from the Cor- 
poration Commissioners that the Fishmongers, out of their princely iufumc^ 
averaging above 18,000/. a-year, disburse in all between 9000/. and 10,000/. 
in charities in Kngland and Ireland : in which last- mentioned country this and 
some of the other Companies have large estates. 

As to the "chartered festivals," that form the other distinguishing feature of 
the Companies in the present day, we have already noticed the election dinner ; 
and have only to add, that, notwithstanding the magnificence of the feasts given 
by some of the Companies, as, for instance, the Merchant Tailors, they are not 
for a moment to be compared with their predecessors of the same locality. 
There may be eminent men among the guests, but no king sitting down "openly 
among them in a gown of crimson velvet of the fashion" as a member, which 
Henry VII. once did : there may be speakers to please with their eloquence, and 
statesmen to flatter with the expression of kindred political views, but no Ben 
Jonson to prepare such an entertainment as that which greeted James L "with 
great and ])lea5ant variety of music, of voices, and instruments, and ingenious 
speeches;'* no Dr. Bull, to make the occasion still more memorable by the first 
production of such an air as 'God save the King.' The halls in which these 
feftivals take place present many features of interest, but none of them arc of 
very early date, the Great Fire having swept away most of those then in ex- 
istence. The hall of the Barber Surgeons, described in a previous number.* 
and that of the Lcathcrscllers engraved in this, may be taken as interesting ex- 
amples of those which escaped. Of the balls recently rebuilt, the Goldsmiths', 

• Ha LXII. 



one of the most sumplnous specimen* of domcalie architecture in the metrnpoTii^ 
has also been fully treated of* The Fishmongera", with its fine statue of Wal- 
worth on the staircase, its stained glass windows, its elegant drawing-room with 
a splendid silrcr chandelier, and its grand banquctting hall, is built, deco- 
rated, and furnished on a similarly splendid scale. Of the remainder we can 
but briefly refer to Merchant Tailors' Hall, with its tabular liaU of the kings, 
princes, dukes, and other distinguished personages, who have been members, 
making one wonder who is not included in it rather than who is; Drapers' Hall, 
on the site of the building erected by Henry VIII/s ricar- general, Cromwell, 
with its public gardens, whore was the house occupied by Stow's father, which 
Cromwell so unceremoniously removed upon rollers when making the said 
gardens out of his neighbours* land ; Mercers* Hall, with its chapel, standing 
where, several centuries ago, stood the house of Gilbert Becket. father of the 
great archbishop, and husband of the fair Saracen who had followed him over 
the seas; the Clockmakers', with their librar}* and museum, richly illustrative 
of the history of their trade ; and lastly, the Painter Stainers, who not only 
claimed a supervision over the highest branches of art. but had their claims 
admitted by the enrolment of such men as Vcrrio, Knellcr, and Reynolds among 
their members. 

^FUhmongnra' Hkll, Lgtwltm Uriilf*.] 

Nu. LXXV. 





(Conut 0%iilc«.) 



Tub name of this well-known place is one of the many inBlanccs of populat 
corruption, which, should the original be onre forgot, from thenceforth bccorao 
both the trouble and the delight of bewildered but zcaloua antiquaries. Wc are, 
however, as yet sjjared their theories as to the origin of Covent Garden, seeing 
that wc arc told in many a bulky volume that there was on the spot, so early as 
1222, a large garden belonging to the monks of Westminster Abbey, which wa« 
therefore known as the Convent Oanien. And it is curious to note how the 
deities to whom the place was then dedicated have kept watch and ward over it 
through all the changes that have been experienced here: the only difference 
being that Flora, having grown more comprehensive and exotic, and^ it must be 
acknowlodged, artificial in her tastes, has changed her simple plat into a con- 
servatory ; and that Pomona, instead of having to superintend the supply of the 
Abbey table^ now caters for no inconsiderable portion of mighty London. 

Wc have spoken of changes ; and perhaps no part of London forms a happier 
text for such a theme, — no part that more strikingly illustrates the growth of 
London in comparatively recent tiroes. Let us look at Covent Garden in 1560, 
aa it is exhibited to us in a large Map of the period,* or at the view of the 
Strand given in a frontispiece to our first volume. It forms there an oblong 
walled ipacCj sprinkled over with trees and some three or four cottages, or as 

* pHKfred in the collection of Sir Haiu filoanr, and r«-«QgtmTcd in Maitlud. 

••I- V. 



Strype describes it. "fields, with some thatched houses, stables, and such lilcc," 
bounded by ojien meadows with footpaths on the north, by the encloscvl and gay 
looking parterres of Bedforti House on the south, by the road from St- Giles's into 
the Strand and to Temple Bar, with Drury House on the opposite side, cm- 
bosomed in green foliage on the east, and by St. Martin's Lane on the west, a 
fine leafy avenue carrying the eye onwards into the country, towards the beau- 
tiful hills of Hampstcad and Highgate. That these features arc correctly 
delineated in the map is cN^ident from other proofs : Anderson, for instance, 
writing about the middle of the last century, refers to his having met persons in 
his youth who retoembered the west side of St. Martin's Lane to have been a 
quickset hedge. Towards the southern corner of the western side, St Martin's 
church formed a portion of the boundary line, with the Mews beyond it, " so 
called of the King's falcons there kept by the King's falconer, which of old time 
was an office of great account, as appeareth by a record of Richard II. in the 
first year of his reign ; [when] Sir Simon Burley. Knight, was made constable 
of the castles of Windsor, Wigmore, and Guilford, and of the manor of Kcn- 
nington, and also master of the King's falconry at the Mews near unto Charing 
Cross." * The Bedford family, to whom we arc indebted in a great measure for 
the difference between the Covent Garden and precincts here described, and the 
same localities of the present day, is the one referred to in Malcolm's remark, 
" Strange, that a fifth of London should have been erected by this family within 
(wo centuries!" 

But for the dissolu'.tc:^ of the monasteries, all these as well as many other 
important metroijolitan changes could hardly have taken place then it was that 
the Convent Garden, with a field called Seven Acres, or more ]>opularly, from 
its shape. Long Acre, was granted by Edward VL to Edward Duke of Somerset, 
and again in 1552, after the attainder of that nobleman, to John Earl of Bedford, 
who immediately built himself a house at the bottom of the present Southampton 
Street, in the Strand (so called from the illustrious wife of the Lord William 
Russell, who was the daughter of the Earl of Southampton), and laid out the 
parterres before mentioned. The house was, it appears, but " a mean wooden 
building, shut up from the street by an ordinary brick wall ;" it was pulled 
down in 1704. In the early part of the reign of Charles 1., Francis, fourth Earl 
of Bedford, looking with the eye of a man of business at the capacities of his 
newly-acquired property, and with that of a statesman at the desirableness and 
certainty of a continual increase of the progression which alarmed so many of his 
brother senators, and of their monarchj began the magnificent improvements 
which were to distinguish his name. How he appeased Charles I., or how he ven- 
tured to act in opposition to him, it is difficult to say, but that the Earl's pro- 
ceedings were in direct violation of the laws which Elizabeth, James, and 
Charles had set down for the repression of fresh buildings in London is certain: 
perhaps, after all, he quietly submitted to be fined, as we shall find was the case 
with his successors, and then let the exaction — like such exactions generally — fall 
on that portion of the public who rented the houses. To the general energy in 
all departments of mental and social life exhibited in the reign of Elizabeth may 
be attributed the increase in the metropolis which so startled the aagacious 

* Stow'i Survey, p. 493. 




virf^'a queen, that she issued a proclamation in 1580, forbidding the erection of 
Aoy but houses of the hij^hest class within throe miles of the city. James was 
not even satisfied with this precaution^ but added (1G17) a proclamation com- 
manding all noblemen, knights, and gentlemen, who had mansions in the country, 
to depart within twenty days, with their wives and families, during the summer 
vacation. As to Charles, he, in the very year that the Earl commenced opera- 
tions, strained the restrictive virtue of proclamations so far as to forbid the 
entertainment of additional inmates in houses already existing. " which would 
multiply the inhabitants to such an excessive number that they could neither 
be governed nor fed.'* This, we repeat, was the jjrecise time the Earl of 
Bedford began. His first step was to call to his assistance Jnigo Jones, who had 
already commenced at Lincoln's Inn Fields the erection of that class of houses^ 
and in that disposition, which gave such novel features to London, and forms to 
this day, in the diH'erent squares, one of its principal charms. The old buildings 
of the locality having been removed, a large oblong space, 500 feet long by 
400 broad, was laid out in the centre, around which were to bo stately build- 
ings, with arcades after the Italian manner, for persons of rank and fashion, then 
fast migrating westward from Aldcrsgato Street and the different parts of the 
city. The north and a part of the cast sides only were erected, however, by 
Jones, or aflcr hia designs, and the latter was burnt down in the fire that injured 
the church in 1795. The remainder of the space was laid out in streets, which 
still bear in their names a reference to the period, as King Strict, Charles Street, 
and Henrietta Street. The impulse, thus given, spread ; noble mansions shot up 
with surprising rapidity, in Drury Lane, in Queen Street, and generally through 
the neighbourhood, where we may still trace Jones's handiwork, as in the building 
in the street last mentioned, which is here shown. This fine artist, indeed, it scorns 
to us, ought to he looked upon as the true founder of the modern domestic archi- 
tecture of the metrojKtlis. It was not till after he had laid out Lincoln's Inn 
S<iaarc and Co vent G arden, and built the palatial mansions t hat adorned both, that 



Soho Square and Golden Square arose; to be followed still later by Hanover 
and Cavendish Squares, and a host of others. Of the minor streets that sprung 
up subsequent to and in consequence of the erection of the buildings of Covent 
Garden, in the same century, we may mention Catherine Street, so designated 
from the wife of Charles II. ; Duke Street and York Street from his brother ; also 
Bloomsbury, and the streets of Seven Dials ; and, lastly, in the reigns of William 
and Anne, the remaining unbuilt sides of Covent Garden. As to the fines for 
such labours, which we before referred to, it appears that during the Protectorate, 
in the year 1G57, William, the fifth Earl, and his brothers John and Edward 
Husscll, were abated 7000/. from the amount of their fines for violating the pro- 
clamation, in consideration of the great expense which the family had incurred 
in the erection of the chapel, and the improvement of the neighbourhood. 

As houses accumulated, the parish church of St. Martin became insufficient 
for the accommodation of the parishioners ; so the Earl one day sent for his 
architect, and '* told him," says Walpolc, who had the anecdote from the Speaker 
of the House of Commons, Onslow, " that he wanted a chapel for the parishioners 
of Covent Garden, but added, he would not go to any considerable expense ; * in 
short,* says he, * I would not have it much better than a barn.* * Well, then,* 
replied Jones, ' you shall have the handsomest bam in England.' " This story, 
so far from appearing to us as "somewhat questionable," as Mr. Brayley esteems 
it, or to have arisen from a mere '* exjiresBton of pleasantry on the part of the 
Earl," as suggested by a writer in the * Gentleman's Magazine,' is so exactly 
illustrated by the building, that were there no truth in it, we should be half 
inclined to agree with the opinion of htm who said the most remarkable thing 
about the structure is the reputation it enjoys, so exceedingly naked is it as 
regards all decorative details, so destitute, in short, of any qualities that can 
command admiration except the air of grandeur thrown over the whole by the 
masterly combinations of form and the powerful lights and shadows which they 
bring into play : the very quality, in short, that the anecdote shows us was 
alone at the architect's disposal. Some time after the erection of the chapel, a 
dispute occurred between the Earl and the vicar of St. Martin's as to the right 
of patronage or appointment of curates to the former, in consequence of which 
the Earl used all liis influence to get the district formed into a separate parish, 
and successfully ; in 1645 his wishes were finally accomplished, and the chapel 
became the church of St. Paul— Covent Garden a parish. The cost of the former 
was 4r)00/., a sum that contrasts very oddly with the charges for repairing the 
structure only about fifty years later, namely, 11,000/.; but the Vandals who 
had the management of the repair appear to have gone out of their way to 
increase the expense by altering the portico — Inigo Jones's portico; for we learn 
from a newspaper of 17:?7 that "the right honourable the Earl of Burlington, 
out of regard to the memory of the celebrated Inigo Jones, and to prevent our 
countrymen being exposed for their ignorance, has very generously been at the 
expense of !300/. or 100/. to restore the portico of Covent Garden Church, now 
one of the finest in the world, to its primitive form : it is said it once cost the 
inhabitants ab^iut twice as much to spoil it." * Would it were always so ; it is 
impossible to desire a better argument for the conviction of such persons, and 

• * Weekly Joumal,' April 22, 1737. 






where that fails nothing could succeed. In 1795 the fire took place which burnt 
the arcade on the east side of the square, and did terrible damage to the church; 
Malcolm says, not a particle of woodwork escaped (the wondrous architectural 
roof of timber of course early disappeared); and describes the flames at their 
height as making *' a grand scene, the portico and massy pillars projected before 
a background of liquid fire." The church had been insured for 10,000/., hut 
the insurance having been allowed to expire about a twelvemonth before, the 
entire expense of the rebuilding fell on the inhabitants in the shape of an accu- 
mulation of rent to the amount, it is said^ of at least 25 per cent. The essential 
parts of Inigo Jones's structure, that is. the portico, with the walls, resisted the 
6re and were preserved. There were some interesting things in the building 
thus destroyed, and which shared the same fate; such as the monument by Gib- 
bon of Sir P. Lcly, who 

" on animated canvas stole 

The sleepy eye Ihat spoke the melting soul," 

and who was buried in the church; the painted-glass portraits of St. Paul^ of 
which Bagford speaks; and the picture of Charles 1.^ by Lcly. which shows how 
the painter's zealous political views had got the bettor of his common sense, 
not to say of his religious perceptions: the king was painted kneeling, with a 
erovn of thorns in his hand, his sceptre and coronet lying by. We do not find 
it stated that this picture was burnt, but such was no doubt the case, as it is 
not now in the church. Many of our readers may be aware that St. Paul's, 
Covent Garden, derives some reputation from the eminent men who have beea 
buried within its walls or churchyard; but they will hardly be aware how very 
rich it is in such associations. Beneath the vestry-room, where is a fine portrait 
by Vandyke of the first Earl of Bedford, lie Wolcot, the scourge alike of Acade- 
micians, and of the royalty who conferred on them the honours they so delighted 
in, and Johnstone, the best Irish gentleman of our stage. In other parts of the 
church are the remains of Wycherley, the author of the * Plain Dealer,' and the 
worthy precursor of the Congreves, Vanbrughs, and Farquhars; MackUn, who, 
as his inscription informs us, was 

" the father of the modern stage, 

Rcnonrned alike fur talent and for age," 

and Dr. Ame, the great English musician (without stone or memorial). In that 
part of the churchyard which lies on the northern side of the walk, against the 
back of the houses of King Street, and cailed King Street Plat, reposes the 
author of ' Hudibras ;* and in another corner of the same plat, appropriately 
designated the Theatrical corner, Michael Kelly, Edwin, King, and Estcourt, 
the founder of the first Beef Steak Club, of which Mrs. Woffington was president, 
and which is mentioned in the ' Spectator.' Two other names yet occur to the 
memory in connexion with St. Paul's. Carr Earl of Somerset, and Sir Robert 
Strange, the founder of the English school of engraving, and who enjoys the 
peculiar honour of having had his portrait introduced into the picture of the 
' Progress of Engraving,' in the Vatican — the only one of our countrymen so 

Nor arc the interesting recollections of the locality confined to the church. In 



Rose Street, now Hose Alley, Covent Garden, was Dryden waylaid and beaten 
by ruffians hired by the Earl of Rochester, in revenge for an attack upon him- 
self in the * Essay on Satire,' a production attributed to Dryden, but really writ- 
ten by Lord Mulgrave, afterwards Duke of Buckinghamshire. The poet was at 
the time returning from his favourite haunt at the western corner of Bow Street, 
the far-famed Will's Coffee House. Dryden was also concerned in another act 
of violence in Covent Garden, and which ended fatally, but in which he was less 
personally interested : we allude to the duel, so dramatically described by Pcpys, 
between "Sir H. Bcliasses and Tom Porter/' and which, he justly observes, is 
worth remembering as a " kind of emblem of the general complexion of this 
whole kingdom at present." He then continues, " They two dined yesterday at 
Sir Robert Carr's, where, it seems, people do drink high, all that come. It 
happened that these two, the greatest friends in the world, were talking to- 
gether, and Sir H. Bellasses talked a little louder than ordinary to Tom Porter, 
giving of him some advice. Some of the company standing by said, 'What, are 
they quarrelling, that they talk so high ?' Sir H. Bellasaos, hearing it, said, 
' No,' aays he, * I would have you know I never quarrel but I strike ; and take 
that as a rule of mine !* * How,* says Tom Porter, * strike ? I would I could sec 
the man in England that durst give mc a blow.' With that Sir H. Bt'llassea 
did give him a box of the ear; and bo they were going to fight there, but were 
hindered. And by-and-by Tom Porter went out, and, meeting Dryden the poet, 
told him of the buainesa, and that he was resolved to fight Sir H. Bellasses pre- 
sently ; for he knew that, if he did not, they should be friends to-morrow, and 
then the blow would rest upon him, which he would prevent ; and desired 
Dryden to let him have his boy to bring him notice which way Sir H. Bellasses 
goes. By-and-by he is informed that Sir H. Bellasses* coach was coming: so 
Tom Porter went down out of the cofTec-housc, where he stayed for the tidings, 
and stopped the coach, and bade Sir H. Bellasses come out. 'Why/ says 
H. Bellasses, 'you will not hurt mo coming out, will you?* *No,' says Tom 
porter. So, out he went, and both drew ; and H. Bellasses having drawn, and 
flung away his scabbard, Tom Porter asked him whether he was ready. The 
other answering him he was, they fell to fight, some of their acquaintance by. 
They wounded one another, and Bellasses so much, that it is feared he will die: 
Bnd, finding himself severely wounded, he called to Tom Porter, and kissed him, 
and bade him shift for himself; for, says he, ' Tom, thou hast hurt mc, but 1 
will make shift to stand upon my legs till thou mayst withdraw, and the world 
will not take notice of you, for I would not have thee troubled for what thou 
hast done.* And so, whether he did fly or not I cannot tell ; but Tom Porter 
showed H. Bellasses that he was wounded too ; and they arc both ill, but H. 
Bellasses to fear of life." • Bellasses died ten days afterwards. 

In Covent Garden, again, was Powell's Theatre, where Punch, soaring above 
the mere antics that regale the eyes of his street wor8hip])ers, marshalled a 
goodly company of puppet actors, and laid under contribution the mightiest sub- 
jectJB in the history of man for dramas, that might worthily exhibit their powers. 
Here is one of Powell's advertisements .—" At Punch's Theatre, in the Little 
Piazza, this present Friday being the 2nd, and to-morrow, tlic 3rd of May, will 

• Pcji^*'* Diary. 





l>e presented an opera, called the * State of Innocence, or the Fall of Man.* 
With variety of scenes and machines, particularly the scene of Paradise in its 
primitive state, with birds, boasts, and all its ancient inhabitants, the subtlety of 
the serpent in betraying Adam and Eve, &c., with variety of diverting inter- 
ludes, too many to be inserted here. No person to be admitted in masks or 
riding-hoods [commonly used at the other theatres for the purposes of licentious 
intrigue], nor any money to be returned after the curtain is up. Boxes 2^. ; 
pit \s. Beginning exactly at seven o'clock." It must not be supposed, how- 
ever, that Punch thought there should be no more cakes and ale because his 
master was virtuous, or that fun was to be debarred merely because the theme 
might be somewhat serious : so, whether Adam and Eve were wandering hand- 
in-hand about Eden, or Noah and his daughters shut up In the ark. Punch, in 
his own proper character, was not long missing. Powell had constantl audi- 
ences of the most fashionable description. Lastly, in and around Covent Garden, 
Me Beefsteak Club — not the oldest one, but by far the greatest — held its sittings, 
fVom its first formation in the dressing-room of the manager and pantomimist 
Rich, a man of whom Garrick says, — 

*' He gave the power of speech to every limb," 

and who carried the pantomimic art to great perfection in his theatre at Lin- 
coln's Ion, and subsequently at Covent Garden when be became its manager. 
To ensure the effect of his scenes, and the working of his ingenious mechanism 
he painted the one, and put in motion the other, in small pasteboard models, 
with his own hands. Whilst thus engaged, his room was the continual resort of 
men of rank and intellectual eminence, who admired the skill of the artist, and 
still more the conversation of the man. Hogarth, his father-in-law Sir James 
ThomhiU, and Lord Peterborough, were among this class. The latter having 
been detained accidentally on one occasion, through tho non-arrival of his car- 
riage, was so delighted with the converse that passed as to overlook the lapse of 
time, and the necessity that his entertainer — a man of regular habits — should 
^t his dinner. Rich, however, did not forget or postpone it, but at two o'clock 
commenced preparations by clearing his fire, placing a gridiron with a steak on 
it, and spreading his cloth. When ready, Rich invited his lordship to join him, 
who did 80, and enjoyed his repast so much that further supplies, with wine, 
were sent for ; and thus was the evening spent. On leaving, Lord Peterborough 
proposed a renewal of the feast on the Saturday following, when three or four 
friends came with him, and the club was finally determined upon, with " Beef 
and Liberty " for its motto, and beefsteaks, port wine, and punch for its regular 
fare. This took jdace in 1735, and from that to the present time there are few 
persons of very high personal, political, or intellectual distinction who have not 
been among its members. In the notices of the proceedings of different periods the 
most prominent names are Bubb Doddington, Aaron Hill, Hoadley, the author 
of the ' Suspicious Husband,' Glover the poet. Lord Sandwich, Wilkes, Bonncl 
Thornton, Arthur Murphy, Churchill, Tickell, the Prince of Wales afterwards 
George IV., the late Duke of Norfolk, the late Charles Morris, &c. &c. Here, 
indeed, were met the fellows of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy, with tbeir 
gibes, their gambols, their songs, their flashes of merriment that were wont to 



set the table in a roar. Pre-eminent among them was the poet Churchill, whoM 
wit in many u dazzling attack or repartee still lives in the memory of the mem- 
bers. The " Liberty," added to the Beef, had probably attracted a descendant 
of King Charles's stem judge, Bradshaw, to the society, who was always boasting 
of the connexion. Pursuing one day his usual theme, Churchill remarked, " Ah, 
Bradshaw, don't crow! The Stuarts have been amply avenged for the loss of 
Charles's head, for you have not had a head in your whole family ever since." 
The society, after numerous migrations, as from Covent Garden Theatre to the 
Bedford Hotel in the square, and from the Bedford to the Lyceum, is now per- 
manently settled in a room attached to the latter, where Rich's original gridiron 
"now presents itself, encircled with its motto, and suspended from the ceiling to 
every eye which can spare a wandering glance from the beefsteak smoking be- 
fore it."* \Vc conclude these historical notices of Covent Garden with a brief 
reference to its aspect in the beginning of the last century, when the square was 
enclosed with rails, and ornamented by a stone pillar on a pedestal, with a 
curious four-square sun-dial ; when the south side lay open to Bedford Garden 
with " its small grotto of trees most pleasant in the summer season," and in 
which part alone was then kept the market for fruit, roots, and flowers. On 
the erection of Southampton and Tavistock Streets, with Southampton Passage, 
on the site of Bedford House and its parterres, the market was removed farther 
into the square, to the great annoyance, it seems, of the " persons of distinction" 
who then resided in it, and who gradually left their houses in consequence. Mail- 
land, referring to this point, in describin|r the '* things remarkable" of Covent 
Garden, calls the latter "a magnificent square," and then adds, "wherein {to iU 
great disgrace) is kept a herb and fruit-market." If the sage topographer could 
■ee the latter now, we wonder whether its increased magnitude would make it 
seem in his eyes a still more disgraceful affair, or whether that very magnitude, 
as in a thousand analogous instances, would stamp it as respectHlile. The con- 
trast is certainly curious between the opinions of the market held by a historian 
of London only a century or so ago, and the state and reputation of that 
market now. 

The supremacy of Covent Garden as the great wholesale market for vege- 
tables, fruit, and flowers is now undisputed. So early indeed as IG54 proposals 
were made for establishing a herb-market in Clement's Inn Fields ; but, though 
the population had been fast increasing in that direction of the town during the 
whole of the century, the Stocks Market and the Huney Lane Market, in the 
City, were still flourishing, and the interests connected with them too powerful 
to admit of a rival. With a single bridge over the Thames, leading into the 
very heart of the City, these ancient markets were most convenient to the 
market-people, whether their supplies were brought by land-carriage or by the 
river. A century later the Stocks Market was removed, and Spitalfielda and 
Covent Garden had become markets of great importance. The origin of Covent 
Garden Market is said to have been casual — people coming and standing in the 
centre of the square with produce for sale gradually led to the establishment 
of a regular market. This took place before either Westminster or Blackfriars 
bridges were erected. A paper, published about the middle of the century, 

. * CluU of Loodun, rol. it ^ 11. ' 




entitled, 'Reasons for fixing an Herb-Market at Dowgate/ appears to have been 
the last attempt to preserve a great vegetable market in the City. It is stated 
in this paper, that since the removal of Stocks Market the farmers and gar- 
deners had laboured under very great incouvenience, as they were obliged to 
take their produce to Spital6clds and Covent Garden, which markets, it ia 
observed, were daily increasing. The establishment of a market at Dowgate 
would, it was argued, have the effect of bringing back into the City all those 
who went from Slocks Market to Spitalfields ; and, as a large pro])urtion of the 
aupply of vegetables and fruit was cither landed at the bridge-foot, or brought 
over it from Kent and Surrey, the proposition seemed reasonable enough. 
While Dowgate was only three hundred and sixty-six yards from the bridge, 
Spitalfields was eighteen hundred yards, and Covent Garden three thousand one 
hundred and ten. The building of Westminster Bridge, and the continually 
increasing population, particularly in the western and northern suburbs, settled 
this quealion. Honey Lane Market, close to Cheapside, and the Fleet Market 
remained the only places within the City which were supplied by the producers. 
Xhe Honey Lane Market is now entirely abolished, and its site occupied by the 
City of London School. In 1824 au Act was passed authorizing the corporation 
of the City to remove the Fleet Market, and to provide a new one in its place, 
DOW called Farringdon Market, on a site adjoining the western side of the old 
market. In 1S30 a company was incorporated for re-establishing Hungcrford 
Market, which is partly a vegetable market. In the same year an Act was 
passed for establishing Portman Marktt. in the jtarisli of Mary-le-bone. Fins- 
bury Market is another of the mudorn vegetable markets of London. We, how- 
ever, need only notice those markets where the growers and the retail dealers 
meet to transact their business; and these arc Covent Garden; the Borough 
Market, near the ancient church of St. Saviour's, Southwark ; Spitalfields, chiefly 
a potato-market; Farringdon Market; and perhaps Hungcrford Market. 

Few places could be more disgi'accfnl to a great city than the incommodious 
state and mean a]>])earance of Covent Garden Market about thirteen years ago, 
when it was partially covered with open sheds and wooden structures, running 
from cast to west. What it was seventy years ago we know from Hogarth's 
print; and the late Mr. Walker, a niuLrupolitan police magistrate, referred to it 
JQst prerious to its alteration, as an instance of the pernicious elTect of neglect 
and filth on public taste and morality in a spot where large numbers of people 
daily congregate. " The evil here," he says, " lies in the bad contrivance and 
BiTAngcment of their places of public concernment. It is surely a great error to 
8[>end nearly a million of money on a penitentiary, whilst the hotbeds of vice 
from which it is filled arc wholly ifnattendcd to. What must necessarily be the 
moral state of the numerous class constantly exposed to the changes of the wea- 
ther, amidst the mud and putridities of Covent Garden ? What ought it to be, 
where the occupation is amongst vegetables, fruits, and flowers, if there were 
well-regulated accommodations?'* Fortunately the kind of deteriorating causes 
here spoken of have been now removed. In 1827 the Duke of Bedford obtained 
an Act for rebuilding the market, and the irregular combination of sheds and 
standings began to be removed in 1828, and in due time the present buildings 
were completed. The new pile consists of a colonnade on the exterior, running 


round Ihc north, east, and south sides, under which arc the sliops, each with a 
sleeping- room above. Joined to the back of these is another row of shops, facing 
the inner courts, and through the centre runs an arched passage, sixteen feet 
wide and open to the top, with shops on cacli side. This passage is the favourite 
promenade of those who visit the market after the rougher business of the morn- 
ing is over. Forced fruits and culinary vegetables, and rare flowers constitute the 
great attraction. The effect of the seasons is set at nought. In January forced 
rhubarb is exhibited, and French beans at 3j.'. a hundred, hot-house grapes at 
25s. a lb. ; in February, cucumbers at *2.f. Gd, to 4s. each ; and strawberries 1*. 
an ounce ; in March, new potatoes at ^s. and 2t. 6^. a lb- ; in April, peaches and 
nectarines at 2*. each, and cherries at 25j. a lb., or perhaps 30.p. ; at the end of 
the month peas at 9s. per dozen; early in May, green gooseberries at 7*. or Ss. 
per half-sieve of 3} gallons; and all the greatest results of artificial horticulture 
in every month of the year. In January, bouquets of geraniums, chrysan- 
themums, euphorbia, and other flowers, may be had at 2x. Gd. to 5y. each ; bunches 
of violets at Ctd. each; sprigs of sweet-briar, also the Persian lilac, mignonette, 
&c. Very extensive cellarage for storing bulky articles is excavated under 
nearly the whole area of the market. There are cellars with conveniences for 
washing potatoes. Great attention has been paid to the forming of cajiacious 
sewers, and every precaution taken to ensure the most perfect cleanliness. Water 
is furnished by an Artesian well, two hundred and eighty feet deep, which sup- 
plies sixteen hundred gallons nn hour, and the whole market can be inundated 
and washed in a few minutes. Over the eastern cutonnade, the ])rincipal 
entrance, there are two light and elegant conservatories, rented by two eminent 
nurserymen, for the sale of the more scarce and delicate species of plants and 
flowers. They are fifteen feet broad and fifteen feet high, and occupy a third of 
the terrace, the remaining part forming a promenade, and being also used for 
the display of the more hardy plants. A handsome fountain throws up a re- 
freshing shower, and adds very much to the beauty of the conservatories. The 
view from the terrace into the principal passage below, and towards the eastern 
side of the market, is animated, if not picturesque. We shall return to Covent 
Garden after a brief description of two other of the metropolitan vegetable 

First in extent, so far as the building is concerned, is Farringdon Market. It 
occupies the sloping surface on which Holborn Hill and Fleet Street stand, and 
is, in fact, the ancient bank of the river Fleet. This inclination of the surface is 
remarkably favourable to the drainage, and the market is not only well supplied 
with water, but ia well lighted when the market is open. The area occupies 
about one acre and a half, in the form of a parallelogram, surrounded on two 
sides by buildings 41 feet high and 48 broad, and measuring along the middle 
about 4S0 feet long. On the above sides are the shojis of the butchers and 
poulterers. The third side consists of a spacious covered space, 232 feet long, 
48 feet broad, and 41 feet high, for the fruiterers and dealers in vegetables, and 
it opens on the central area by an arcade at several points. The south side is 
open to the street, hut separated from it by a long iron palisading, in which 
there arc two entrances for waggons. The number of shops is seventy-nine. 
Altogether the quadrangular area with the buildings covcra 3900 square yards. 






being 232 feci by 150 feet. Two of the largest provincial markets are St. John's 
Market, nt Liverpool, 183 feet by 45; and one at Birmingham, VJO feet by 
36. The cost of building Farringdon Market was 30,000/., but the purchase oi 
the site, the buildings which stood upon it, and the rights of the occupiers, cost 
the city about 200,000/. Hnngcrford Market was erected by the architect of 
Covent Garden Market, but it is not confined to the sale of articles of food only. 
The Borough Market is of tolerable size, but aUogethcr destitute of architec- 
tural pretensions; and, if possible, Spitalficlds and the other markets are still 
less distinguished in this way. 

The supply of a population amounting to nearly two millions with articles of 
such general and necessary consumption in every family as culinary vegetables 
and fruit, involves of course a very extensive and comprehensive system of co- 
operation, and in this and every other department connected with the provision 
of food to the inhabitants of London there is that perfect working to each othcr*B 
hands amongst the several branches of those immediately or remotely employed 
by which alone the final result is so successfully accomplished. In vegetable food 
and fruit the demand cannot at all times keep pace with the immense supply which 
is poured in by steam-boats, sailing-boats, and boats conducted by a pair of oars, 
by the railways, and by land-carriage, from the metropolitan counties, from 
every part of England and parts of Scotland, and from the continent. It is 
nearly half a century since Middlcton, in his ' Agricultural Survey of Middlesex,* 
estimated the value of the vegetables annually consumed in London at fi4.'),000/., 
and of fruit at 400.000/., making together a sum exceeding one million sterling 
(1,045,000/.), and this exclusive of the profits of any other class besides the 
growers. The total amount paid by the consumer would of course very much 
augment the above large sum. Middleton gives an instance in which the market- 
gardener received 45/. per acre for turnips, while the consumer was paying at 
the rate of 150/., the former selling bunches at three halfpence each, which 
were sold in the retailer's shop at livepcnce. This of course was not the general 
eourse of the trade, for though the retail dealer has, generally speaking, to pay 
a heavy rent, and is subject to other great expenses and bad debts, the difference 
of the wholesale and retuil price was in this case disproportionate. There arc 
perhaps more cases of garden -farmers or market- gardeners making handsome 
fortunes by production than amongst the class who sell the same articles by retail. 
Middleton speaks of a person who grew at Sutton eighty acres of asparagus, and 
the cost of forming the beds was estimated at 100/. per acre. Another grower 
had sixty acres of his own land under this crop. The market-gardeners, he 
■ays, on Rve acres of the best land, or nine acres of a secondary quality, or on 
twenty acres of inferior land, at that time provided as well for their families as 
mn ordinary farmer on one hundred and fifty or two hundred acres. He 
calculated that, for the supply of London with vegetables, there were 20CO 
acres cultivated by the spade, and 8000 partly by the spade but chiefly by 
the plough: the gross annual produce varied from 200/. to 50/, an acre. 
There were besides the fruit gardeners, who, in 1795, had three thousand acres 
under cultivation in Middlesex alone, the " upper crop" consisting of apples, 
pears, cherries, jilums, walnuts, Sic, and the "under crop" of gooseberries, 
raspberries, carrants, strawberries, and other bearing trees which would grow 



well under the shade of the larger onea. Peaches, nectarines, and similar fruits 
were trained against the walls. In the height of the season Middlcton supposfd 
that each acre of these gardens gave employment to thirty-five persons, amongst 
whom were many women, chiefly from Wales, part of whose lime was employed 
in carrying baskets of fruit to town on their heads. The vegetable gardeners 
also gave employment to great numbers of persons in the busiest season. The 
gathering of a crop of peas required forty persons for every ten acres, the 
'* poddcrs '" being paid at the rate of fourpencc a bushel in 1705. After peas 
succeeded turnips, and these as well as carrots are washed and tied in bunches 
before being sent to market. The cutting and packing of waggon loads of cab- 
bages or whatever other vegetables may be in season cannot be done without the 
services of a number of persons besides the labourers actually engaged in their 
cultivation. Since Middleton's work was published the population of the mctro- 
jioHs has just doubled, and it probably will not be far wrong to double his 
estimates : the mode of cultivation and of preparing the produce for market 
remains much in the same state as it was tifly years ago. Two centuries ago, 
Samuel Hartlib, author of several works on agriculture, writing in 1650, states 
that some old men recollected " the first gardener who came into Surrey to plant 
cabbages, cauliflowers, and to sow turnips, carrots, and parsnips, to sow early- 
ripe peas, all which at that time were great wonders, we having few or none in 
England but what came from Holland and Flanders." Twenty years before, 
he tells us, that so near London as Gravesend, " there was not so much as a mesa 
of peas but what came from London," In our day we have pea salesmen in 
London, and in a single day one grower will send to one firm about fuur hun- 
dred sacks of twelve and sixteen pecks each, besides from three to five hundred 
sieves (of seven gallons each) of those of a superior kind ; and the same grower 
will in the same way send seven or eight waggon loads of cabbages, each load 
averaging one hundred and fifty dozen cabbages; at another season, from the 
same farm, fourteen or fifteen hundred baskets of*' sprouts" will be sent in 
one day, and in the course of the year from five to six thousand tons of potatoes. 
If we look at the immense quantity and variety of vegetables and fruits which 
arc sent to I^mdon in the present day, it is easier to perceive the great change 
which has taken place in the diet of the people than to imagine how they 
could do without that varied supply of vegetable food which is now considered 

The market-days at Covent Garden are Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday, 
the last being by far the most important. There is no particular hour for com- 
mencing business, but it varies at different seasons, and by daybreak there arc 
always a few retail dealers present. Waggons and carts have been arriving for 
some time before, and porters are busied in transferring their contents to the 
different stations of the salesmen while the dawn is yet grey. The houses of 
refreshment around the market arc open at half-past one in summer ; and little 
tables arc set out against the pillars of the piazzas by the venders of tea and 
coffee, Here the porters and carters can obtain refreshment without needing to 
resort to exciting liquore; and few greater benefits have been conferred on the 
laborious classes whose occupation is in the public markets than that of sub- 
stituting tea and coffee for ardent spirits. There is some separation of the 




iifforcnt classes of arlicles, and jiotatoos and coarser produce are assigned a 
distinct quarter. Vegetables and fruit are tolerably well separated, and flowers 
and plants are found together. The vest side of the square is c-overed with 
potted flowers and plants in bloom, and a gay, beautiful, and fragrant dis]>lay 
they make. The supply of "cut* flowers for bouquets, or, to use the old- 
fashioned word, nosegays, is very large, including " walls," daffodils, roses, pinks, 
carnations, &c., according to the season. The carls and waggons with vegetables 
are drawn up close together on three sides of the market. A waggon-load of 
fine fresh cahbagcs, of clean-washed turnips, carrots, or cauliflowers, or an area 
of twenty square yards covered with the latter beautiful vegetable, or either of 
the others piled in neat stacks, is a pleasing sight. Here are onions from the 
Bedfordshire sands or Deptfurd. cabbages from Battersea, asparagus from Mort- 
lake and Dcptford, celery from Chelsea, peas from Charlton, these spots being 
each famous for the production of these particular articles, though the supply 
may be larger from other places. By and by the greengrocers come j'gging in ; 
and the five spacious streets leading to the market in time beromc crowded with 
a double row of their vehicles. The costermongers and venders of water-cresses, 
and itinerant dealers who have taken up the trade as a temporary resource, 
arrive with their donkey-carts, trucks, or baskets. The Irish baskot-womeUi who 

[Qvtr:.'. (iiclett lUskcit WoiiM*.] 

ply as portcreOTfs, and will carry your purchase to tmy part of the town, jabber 
in Erse, and a subdued clamouring sound tells you that the business of the day 
has really begun. As fast as the retail dealer makes his bargains a porter 
carriei the articles to his market-cart, pushing through the crowd with the load 
on his head as well as he can. The baskets of " spring onions " and young 
radishes arc thronged by the itinerant dealers trying to drive hard bargains. 



This is the Londoners* flower-garden, and ia resorted to in the early sammer 
morning by many a lover of flowers compelled by his occupation to live in the 
densely-crowded parts of London, and who«tcala a few moments from the busy 
day to gratify one of the purest tastes. This out-of-door floral exhibition has 
undergone an extraordinary improvement within the last few years, and it is 
really an attractive show. It keeps alive a taste which in many instances would 
otherwise languish; and it is not a little "refreshing" to see the humble me- 
chanic making a purchase of a root of "hen and chicken daisies," a "black" 
wall-flower, or a primrose, to ornament the window of his workshop. Some who 
lOve flowers better than they understand how to treat them, while making their 
purchase, gather instructions for keeping them fresh and healthy. The " pot" 
plants arc bought in ones and twos by private persons; but the itinerant dealer 
fills his basket or donkey-cart, and will bo met with in Ins perambulations 
during the day in most parts of London in spring and summer. The most com- 
mon plants are pelagorniums, fuchsias, verbenas, heliotropes, amaranthus, 
cockscombs, calceolarias, roses, myrtles, and other greenhouse plants. The cut 
flowers are purchased for the decoration of public rooms, and by persons who 
love the exquisite beauty of flowers, and by itinerant dealers, chiefl}' females, 
who make them up into small bouquets and vend them in the streets. The 
smart clerk purchases them for a posy, and to stick a fine pelagornium in the 
button hole is not a practice to be despised, albeit a glass phial fliled with water 
on a comer of his desk would perhaps be as good a destination. The sweet-briar 
which the flower-girl offers for sale in the crowded street gives out a fra- 
grance which is most deticiouSj as its odours are momentarily inlialcd by the 
hasty passenger proceeding to scenes so diflcront from those which it recalls. 
The costermongers,* who may be seen in all the great wholesale markets of 
London, Sraithfield excepted, unless they may go there to speculate in horse- 
flesh for the boiler, or to buy a donkey, are a very singular race, and in their 
iharp commercial habits come nearer to the Jews than any other class. From their 
appearance any one would infer that their purchases would be confined to a few 
bunches of water-cresses, but they often buy considerable quantities of the best 
description of articles; and though, still judging from appearances, it would 
seem to display a very reckless degree of confidence in each other, they not un- 
frequcntly club their money and buy up an advantageous lot on favourable 
terms, though it is not easy to perceive by what arrangement they can divide 
the bargain amongst each other without serious disputes. The narrow and 
dirty streets which they inhabit may often be seen gay with a rich display of 
potted flowers and plants which they arc about to carry through the town for 
sale; and at other times an unwonted aspect of purity ia given to the vicinity by 
a profuse supply of the finest cauliflowers. The costermongers may be divided 
into several ranks, the lowest being scarcely worthy of the name, as he only 
purchases in small quantities which he can carry off in his basket. A con- 
siderable degree above him is he who carries his commodities from street to 
street on a truck with a capacious board on the top, shelved at the edges; but 
it must be stated that the truck is only a hired one, cither for the day or the 



* S«e No. Vni. < Stfcet Nouei,* vol. L p. 13<. 




vreelc ; the costcrmongor who owna a donkey, and a rough cart which sccma to 
have been rudely made by his own hands, is indeed worthy of his name and 
character, and he may save money if he is not too fund of low sports; but a 
prince among the tribe is he who has not only cash for any chance speculation 
which may turn up, but possesses accumulated capital in the shape of trucks 
which he lets out at a fixed rent to his less fortunate or less steady brethren. 
One man of this class, who lives near the ' Elephant and Castle/ has forty of 
these tracks. They cost from 'M. to 21, 10s. when new: he is not so extravagant 
as to buy them fresh from the maker, but picks them up when misfortune 
obliges one of the fraternity to descend to a humbler rank in the profession. 
Tho charge for letting them out is Ad. a-day, or 2«. a-week, but without the 
board at the top ^Sd. and 1^. Gi/. ; and in winter the price for each sort is only 
\s.&d. Sometimes one of these wealthy truck-men will buy up on very advan- 
tageous terms large quantities of such articles as are in season^ and he can sell 
again to the drawers of his trucks cheaper than they can buy in small quantities 
in the market. He knows better than to employ the buyers as his servants, but 
is content with a small profit and no risk, and as he gets so handsome an income 
from hia trucks he ought to be content, A boy of the lowest class commencing 
his career in Covcnt Garden Market, if he be prudent, sharp, and intelligent. 
and is fortunately exempt from the vices of his companions, has a better and 
surer prospect of making a fortune, if hu ])ursues a right course, than most of 
the youths of the middle class. 

The Borough Market is well supplied with vegetable produce, but there is no 
catering here for a wealthy class of consumers : the market is held three times 
a-week. Hungerford can scarcely be regarded a wholesale market, the dealers 
who have shops here being chiefly supplied from Covcnt Garden. Farringdon 
Market has not realized the expectations which were entertained of its im- 
portance, but produce is brought to it by the growers on two days in the week, 
and it is a good deal resorted to by the itinerant venders, those especially who 
■ell hot baked ]H>tatocs and the criers of water-cress. SpitalBelds is the largest 
potato market in the metropolis, as, besides being convenient to the growers 
in Kssex, whence the chief supply by land-carriage is obtained, it is in the 
midst of a dense population of the poorer class. It is difficult to obtain an esti- 
mate worthy of much confidence relative to the consumption of ]>otatoes in 
LiOndon, but it is really enormous, and of late years has increased in a greater 
ratio than the increase of population would warrant. The most extensive 
potato-salesmen are established in Tooley Street, where they have warehouses 
adjacent to the river. There are some retail dealers who dispose of thirty 
Ions of potatoes per week, in quantities of a few pounds weight at a time, all 
weighed in the scale ; but ten tons is considered as a very good amount of 
business in this article, and sales of this extent only occur in particular 
quarters of the town where the means of the population do not rise much above 
poverty. One wholesale dealer in Spitalfields Market can store up a thousand 
tons or H.Ot'O sacks on his premises. The Irish Railway Commissioners esti- 
matrrd the quantity of food consumed by an adult living wholly upon vegetable 
food at eleven lbs. per day, inclusive of waste, which ia very great ; the quantity 


consumed by the next class, who enjoy a limited use of other kinds of food, ihcy 
Hscertained to be two lbs. ; and those who were unrestricted as to the nature of 
their food consumed one lb. of vegetable food. Now, taking the population of 
London requiring a supply of potatoes from the market at 1,500,000, and allow- 
ing the consuming powers of a population of 1000 adults and children to be 
equal to that of 655 adults, we have in the metropolis the full consuming power 
of 98'2,*250 persons. As so many other vegetables are used besides potatoes, 
would it be very far wrong to estimate the consumption at one lb. for each adult 
per day. that is, 3070 tons per week, or say 3000 tons, and 156,000 tons per year? 
Even if some reduction were made on ihis estimate, the quantity would still be 
very great. Not more than one-half of this supply is obtained from the metro- 
politan counties, chiefly Essex and Kent. When prices range high, the inland 
supplies are brought thirty miles or more, a great distance for so bulky an 
article. The quantity conveyed by the railways is very trifling, and steam-boats 
only occasionally bring ten or fifteen tons when other freight is not to be ob- 
tained. There remains, then, probably from seventy to eighty thousand tons for 
the supply by water, the larger proportion of which comes frum land on the 
banks of the Humber, Trent, and Ouse. which is fertilized by artiiieial flooding 
and the deposit of a rich silt. Scotland ranks the next, afterwards Jersey, and 
lastly Devonshire. Scarcely any potatoes reach London from Ireland, as they 
have hitherto been more profitably consumed in the production of baeon and 
pork; and the small quantity of foreign which have arrived since the alteration 
of the tariff has not proved good enough for the London market. In the busy 
season of the year there is always a considerable number of vessels laden with 
potatoes lying off" the wharfs adjacent to Tooley Street ; those from Yorkshire 
being of 50 to 120 tons ; the Scotch vessels from 80 to 150 tons ; and those from 
JiTsey are sometimes as large as 300 tons. At the same time the yards which 
communicate with the wharfs arc crowded with the waggons and carts belonging 
to the retail dealers waiting for a supply. For about three months in the 
year this water-side trade ia suspended^ but it revives again La the month of 




•J I j 





The Admiralty, which forms the left flank of the detachment of Government 
offices drawn up in line opposite the Banqueting House at Whitehall, cannot 
■land a very critical examination on its architectural mi-rits. Well ; it is not the 
only plain and homely body in which a mighty spirit has been lodged. These 
three huge sides of a square, without even an attempt at ornament — excepting 
the posts, which the polite call pillars, at the grand centra! entry — which resemble 
nothing on earth so much as an overgrown farmstead, which have had that 
architectural screen, almost as tasteless as themselves, drawn before them like a 
Mokanna's veil, from a dim sense that not even stone walls could hear with 
patience the remarks that must necessarily be made upon them if fully exposed 
to view — are the unlikely form in which is lodged the mind that wields the naval 
power of BriUin. 

There sit the Commissionersof the Admiralty, the Board which, except for two 
ears, separated from each other by the lapse uf more than a century,* have been 
invested with the government of the navy of England since the Revolution. The 
First Lord of the Admiralty (who is a member of the Cabinet) and his four 
jaoior Lords hold their deliberations there. They prepare the navy estimates. 

* Prine* George ofDctnaiirk wu Lori) High ArtminJ io 1707-8 ; th« late Kinc wbeii Dnke of CIvcik-s, ia 
m7-9; with tbm txccjAiutii tlic ufficc hu bf«n io cmniniMiiou aiiiofl ItiSS. 

VOL. V. L 



and lay thorn before Parliament ; issue orders for llie payment of naval moneyB ; 
make or approrc all apjjointmcats or promotions in the navy; recommend aU 
grants of lionours, pensions, or gratuities for services performed in their depart- 
ment ; order ships to be commissioned, employed, and paid off, builtj sold, or 
broken up. There is a ceaseless ebb and flow of business surging about that 
homely building. Reports, inquiries, and petitions are flowing in like a spring- 
tide incessantly from the remotest regions of the earth, and orders and instruc- 
tions arc flowing out as continuously to regulate operations that fill as wide a 

Ifwc take up our station on the esplanade in St. James's Park, the eye is 
caught by a huge upright beam erected on the roof of the Admiralty, with 
straight arms extending from it laterally at different angles. At times these may 
be seen altering their positions, remaining a few moments at rest, and then 
changing again. The giant upon whom the stranger gazes with uncomprehend- 
ing curiosity is whispering to his huge brother on Putney Heath, who wiD 
repeat the intelligence to his neighbour behind Richmond, and he to the next in 
order, so that by their unconscious agency the heads of the navy in London give 
and receive intelligence to and from the great naval stations hundreds of miles 
off as quickly as they can communicate with a storehouse at the other end of the 
metropolis. The semaphore is, as any man may sec. but a block of wood, and, 
heaven knows, no beauty, yet, in the hands of man, it becomes instinct with .won- 
drous power. Like all the other mechanical inventions of the age, it indicates 
at once the power of intellect audits limit. By the instrumentality of machinery 
man adds to the puny strength of his body, and ekes out his dwarJish stature. 
By the steam-engine he rows a mighty ship as if it were a Thames scull-boat, 
or hammers at once masses of iron too colossal for a troop of Cyclopses. And 
by the telegraph he renders himself as it were present in the same moment at 
distant places. But he cannot inspire his instruments with intelligence ; only 
while his hand is upon them can they '* do his spiriting gently " or otherwise : 
left to themselves they relapse into the inertness of mere matter. Nor can he 
clothe them with the flexible grace of movement, with that ever-varying ele- 
gance of form and harmony of tint which is the contradistinguishing mark of God's 
creations. Wonderful though they be, these inventions of man — these his mute 
senseless drudges — they all of them bear legibly and indelibly stamped upon 
all their lineaments, the name of makeshift. Mere makeshifts they arc and 
roust remain — something inferior stuck in to supply the want of better that cannot 
be had — confessions of weakness — reminding us even more of human littleness 
and feebleness than of its power. 

There is quite as little to interest the eye in the interior of the structure 
round which we have been loitering and musing as in its exterior. Through the 
great central door you pass into a spacious hall, cool, airy, and pleasant in sum- 
mer, but bare of ornament. There appears to be something imposing in its 
mere size and proportions, but perhaps this is self-deception — attributing to the 
building the impression produced by the presence that lies beyond. A few 
attendants in plain dresses are lounging in the hall ; always civil, but always 
cool — they answer any questions with Spartan brevity, and allow the inquirer to 





' pnsson. Tbc jmblic rooms arc, lilcc tlic vestibule, snfficicntly spacious and well 
yiro portioned, furnished with everything necessary to facilitntc the discharge of 
business — decorously simple. Except in the extent of the bailding there is nothing 
to distinguish it from the private establishment of some great mercantile firm. 
It is nothing of outward show that impresses us as wc pass through these suites 
of rooms : it is our consciousness of a spiritual presence which has pervaded 
them ever since they became the residence of the central management of the 
British navy. 

How many an anxious, how many an elated heart, passes daily in and out 
of this building ! Nerves that would remain unshaken, minds that would 
^_ remain self-possessed, while the iron-hail-showcr of a broadside was crashing 
^M through bulwark and bulkhead, or while the thunders of whole fleets beneath the 
smoke-canopy of their own creation were shaking the breezy atmosphere into a 
calm, sulphurous and portentous as that which broods over an earthquake, have 
here become relaxed and confused as those of a bashful girl. The midshipman 
as he passed up these broad stairs has felt that there was something worse on 
this earth than a mast-heading, and even his petulance has been subdued; nay, 
the equanimity of the most coolly imperious captain has been shaken. Perhaps 
Nelson has laid his hand upon these banisters while his far-distant spirit was 

P marshalling the future fights of Trafalgar and the Nile, or giving orders to 
hang out the signal—" England expects every man to do his duty." Poor Dal- 
rymple, the first Admiralty hydrographcr, has here been convulsed with the 
wayward querulousncss of age, attributing to nialcvulcncc and oppression the 
conduct rendered necessary by his own dotage. Cook passed up these stairs to 
^■.report what unknown regions and tribes he had discovered, and how he had 
^^ triumphed over sickness, and brought back a crew scarcely diminished by 
death, from a long, distant, and dangerous voyage. Here many a plan of 
Action has been struck out which conducted to victory ; many a one, in defiance 

I of the absurdity of which the skill and courage of British sailors have gained 
victories. The succession of gallant spirits endowed with scientific acquirements, 
calmness, and ft-rlility of resource in unexpected emergencies, honourable pride 
in their profession and devotion to their country, which has filled these walls for 
a great part of two hundred years, is unsurpassed in history. 
It is impossible for any citizen of a state whicli is so essentially maritime as 
Great Britain, not to feel that this centre of our naval organization is among the 
most interesting localities that London contains, and to feel irresistibly tempted 

flo linger on the spot conjuring up an outline of the stages through which our 
navy has passed into its present maturity of growth. 
Most of our kings since the Conquest appear to have possessed some vessels of 
war; and an Amiral de la Mer du roi d'Anglcterre appears on the records as 
cnrly as 1297. But the English *' Amiral " was at this time merely a great 
officer of slate, who presided generally over maritime affairs. Often not a pro- 
fessional person, his duties were, not to command ships in battle, or indeed at 
any other time, but to superintend and direct the naval strength of the kingdom, 
and to administer justice in all causes arising on the seas. In the former caps 
city he may be considered as " the original Admiralty;" his judicial functioni 




have long been separated from the administrative, and are discharged by the 
*' High Court of Admiralty," which nestles beside the Ecclesiastical Courts in 
Doctors' Commons. Lord Stuwell might have been called in old times " Amiml 
du roi d'Angleterre:'* think of an admiral In a wig and gown! And fleets 
in these early days were fitted out when the King went to war, by adding to his 
own Utile squadron, merchant- vessels pressed from all parts in the kingdom; for 
the prcssgangs of old took the ships along with the sailors. 

The naval affairs of Great Britain continued much on this footing till the close 
of the fifteenth century. It has been usual to assume that Henry VII. was the 
first king who thought of providing a naval force which might be at all time» 
ready for the service of the state. It does not appear that Henry did more ia 
this way than building the * Great Harry,' which writers on this subject have 
agreed among themselves to call the first ship of the royal navy. But there 
were royal ships before his time ; and as for general attention to naval affairs, 
there was quite as much paid by Edward IV. as by Henry VII. The fitting 
place for looking a little more narrowly into this question, however, will be when 
we come to speak of the Trinity House. 

Henry VIII. is said to have ** perfected the designs of his father," which being 
interpreted, means that the existence of a real royal or state navy, such as 
Tlngland has possessed since his time, cannot be traced back to an earlier jeriod. 
He instituted the Admiralty and the Navy Office ; established the Trinity House 
and the dockyards of Deptford, Woolwich, and Portsmouth; appointed regular 
salaries for the admirals, captains, and sailors, and, in short, made the sea-service 
a distinct profession. He also made laws for the planting and preservation of 
timber; caused the 'Henri Grace de Diea* to be built, which is said to have 
m-easured above 1000 tons; and left at his death a navy, the tonnage of which 
amounted to 12,000 tons. The ships of this age, say the historians, "were high, 
unwieldy, and narrow ; their guns were close to the water; they had lofty poops 
and prows, like Chinese junks;" and Sir Walter Raleigh informs us, "that the 
* Mary Rose,* a goodly ship of the largest size, by a little swing of the ship in 
casting about her ports being within sixteen inches of the water, was overcast 
and sunk." This took place at Spithead in the presence of the king, and most 
of her ufScers and crew were drowned. 

What little we know of the navy of Bluff King Harry's time is almost entirely 
confined to the existence of such lubberly crafl as the * Mary Rose' and certain 
government offices. Cuming down to the days of Queen Bess we scrape ac- 
quaintance with the gallant fellows who manned her somewhat improved vessels. 
Elizabeth was economical. Though she increased the navy — at her death it con- 
sisted of 4'2 ships, measuring 17,0U0tons — and though she raised the wages of 
seamen to IOa' a-month (under her father they appear to ha\-o been only about 
5j. per month), yet she encouraged the merchants to build large ships, which on 
occasion were converted into ships of war and rated at 50 to 100 tons more than 
they measured. Of the 176 ships, manned by 14,996 men, which met the 
Spanish Armada, a considerable number were not "shippcs royal.** Raleigh's 
criticism on the faulty build of the ' Mary Rose* will lead the reader to the in- 
ference that in his time naval aivhitecturo had made some progress. This 





iinproTeinent, however, wm most marked under Elizabeth's bucccssot, who had 
the good sense to encourage Phincas Pelt. Pett, who has been called our earliest 
able and scientific ship- builder, made many improvements in the cousLructton of 
vcs8eU> and in particular relieved ships of much of their top hamper. Tin's the 
more deserves notice as it seems to be the only respect in which naval matters 
advanced under James. Signals, as a mcaos of communication between ships, 
bad been introduced under Elizabeth. 

But we have intimated above that in the age of Elizabeth and James we 
scrape acquaintance with the sailors as men. The great national effort by 
which — with the assistance of the bad choice the intruding invaders made of a 
s<'ason of the year for their expedition — the Spanish Armada was discomfited, 
may be regarded as in part the natural consequence of the growth of the spirit 
of maritime enterprise in England, in part the cause of a great and sudden de- 
velopment which it received at that time. The exaggerated estimate made of 
the gain of the Spaniards by their American conquests had stirred the emulation 
of England. Merchants of Bristol and merchants of London were fitting out 
Toyages of discovery and soliciting the royal countenance to their courts. 
Oxford was seized by the prevailing epidemic : her mathematicians and her 
historical students were full of the thoughts of new Indies, busily devising how 
their own scientific acquirements could most promote discovery. Dr. John Dee 
was making maps as well as casting nativities, and Hackluyt was lecturing on 
gcoirraphy at Oxford. The high nobility became associated with adventures 
to unknown lands, as we have seen their descendants with all kinds of joint-stock 
companies and other bubble speculations. An Earl of Warwick was at the ex- 
pense of having puhlisht-d at Florence the ' Arcano del Mare,' a treatise on 
navigation. Earls of Bedford, Lords Chamberlain, and other nobles who in 
that halrfeudal age still ruffled with troops of rctaiDers, cherished their gallant 
naval dependants more than any others. The Frobishers. Drakes, and the rest 
of these patriarchs of our fleet almost all started in life as followers of some 
nobleman. The young gentr}' of Devonshire and Cornwall, the Ralcighs and 
ihe Gilberts, partly from natural inclination, partly because they saw " that 
way promotion lay," sought to swing themselves into notoriety by entering the 
sea*flervice. The theory as well as the practice of navigation was studied — the 
discovery and colunisution of new lands and the seamanship of the whole nation 
went hand in hand. It was court fashion, but it was quite as much country 
fashion. The queen had the good sense to encourage this spontaneous burst of 
national energy, and to feel that countenance was almost all she needed to give. 
In those days might be seen the bold speculator Michael Lok. who gambled in 
adventures of discovery, seated between the mystical scholar Dee and the stout 
practical mariner Frobisher, devising how, bj »kirting the polar ice, they might 
discover the direct road to Cathay. Next might be seen each of these stirring 
up their respective patrons to furnish forth the enterprise; Master Lok nego- 
tiating with the Muscovy Company and othir great city merchants. Captain 
Frobisher with the Earl of Bedford and uther patrons of "men of action,'* and 
Dr. Dee with the subtle and accomplished courtiers who, like Leicester, either 
encouraged learning from taste or from policy; and when all was prepared^ and 



the ships ready to drop down the river^ then to give the finishing grace to all 
this stir and bustle did the virgin queen repair in person to Greenwich, and sit 
in open air as the fore-topsail was loosened and the boatswain's shrill call was 
heard, and sail after sail rose and swelled to the wind like white clouds ou the 
horizon ; and waved her somewhat skinny but jewelled hand, as amid a rattle of 
patereros and other artillery the ships bent over from the breczo as if doing 
homage to their sovereign, and glided off on their far and perilous errand. Our 
ships were of suiall size then, but they carried big spirits and most picturesque 
personages. The reader will but half appreciate the artistical value of Fru- 
bishcr s voyage if when he reads of that gallant seaman risking himself at the 
extremities of the booms, amid a squall in the North Seas that laid his 
ship on her l}cam-cnds, he forgets the trunk-hose with which he was encum* 
bercd ; or if he fail to note that Best, the historian of the voyage, when ho 
narrates the broils between the crew and Esquimaux, dwells with emphasis on 
the " ^«Y(/ft/ partisan " that was held to the wild man's throat. And Elizabeth, 
the great prototype of Black-eyed Susan — 

•* Adieu! ilie cried, and waved her Illy httud," — 


had knighthoods for her captains when they returned, as well as smiles when they 
departed. It was then that Englishmen became a nation of mariners — the " tight 
little island," n great tender moored in the Atlantic. The infectious enthusiasm 
caught all ranks and ages; and the poet mirrored it in his lines, or even at- 
tempted to j>roduce its bodily presence on the stage. It must have been a right 
willing audience that was guud-humoured enough to eke out to this end tlie 
makeshift machinery of that time with its imagination ; but, seated in our closets, 
the shipwreck scenes of Shakspere, and the naval battles of Beaumont and Flet- 
cher, become living and breathing realities. 

All have heard of John Hampden and his ship-money : that controversy between 
a king and his subject marks an era. not only in constitutional history, but in the 
formation of our navy. The necessity of increasing the strength, and improving 
the organisation of the navy, was equally felt by royalist and republican states- 
men. The opposition to Charles arose not so much out of any objection to the 
creation of a navy, as out of distrust of the policy which sought to raise the money 
for that purpose without the aid of parliament. It was under Charles I. that the 
navy was first divided into rates and classes; but the civil troubles during the 
latter part of his reign diverted attention from maritime aflfatrs. When Crom- 
well seized the reins of government, he found the navj' much reduced, but his 
*nergy restored it, and he left l^i sail, of which one third were two-deckers, mea- 
suring nearly 58,000 tons. Cromwell was the first who laid before parliament 
estimates for the support of the navy, a practice which has been continued ever 
since : he obtained 400,000^ per annum for that purpose. The navigation laws, 
an important feature in the naval policy of England, were also originated by 
Cromwell, or some of his councillors. The government of the Restoration, with all 
its faults, had the good sense to appreciate Cromwell's naval policy. The extra- 
vagance of the king, and thejobbingpropensiticsof someof his ministers, starved 
the navy for intervals; but it was a passion with the Duke of York, afterwards 








Jcracs n., and the labouring our was taken by the indefatigable Pepys, and he 
twcen them the naval scrTJce had on the whole fair-pKiy down to the time of the 
Revolution. The duke introduced improved signals, and Popys kept the accounts 
in order. When James II. mounted the throne, he found 179 vesaels, measuring 
103,558 tons. He took immediate measures fur improving the navy. He sus- 
pended the Navy Board, and appointed a new Cummission, with which he joined 
Sir Anthony Deane, the best naval architect of the time, who materially improved 
the ships of the line by cop}'ing from a French model. 400,000/. per annum 
was the sum set apart for naval purposes; and so diligent were the Commis- 
sioners, that at the Revolution the Hcct wels in excellent condition, with sea-stores 
complete for eight months for each ship. The force was 154 vessels, of which 
nine were lirst-rates, carrying G930 guns, and 4*2,000 men. 

Scientific navigation continued to be patronised during the whole of this period : 
during the latter half of it under the auspices of the Royal Sotticty. The sailing 
and fighting men of the navy had not, however, become so thoroughly fused into 
one class as they arc in our day. Blake never was at sea till he had jtassed forty, 
and it may be questioned whether he was ever much of a navigator. He asked 
his pilot, or master, to lay him alongside of the enemy, and his self possession, 
fearlessness, and pertinacity did the rest. The Montagues and Albemarlcs, who 
commanded under the Restoration, were not much of seamen : they trusted the 
navigation of their vessels to the mariners — -their business was to fight. They 
wore followed on board, when they hoisted their flags, by volunteers from the 
court. They were high caste " waisters.'* The peculiarities of British men-of- 
war were not fully developed so long as this system continued. It is fashionable 
to speak of the fleet as republican during this period : this is one of the meaning- 
less generalisations of historians. The sailors were all for their profession, and 
for the land that owned their ships. They troubled their heads as little about 
politics then as now. Some of Blake's and Dcane's old roundhead captains retired 
from the service in disgust after the Restoration, as did many of the old round- 
head caj'tains from the army ; and, as the power of conceiving a devoted attach- 
ment to such abstractions as forms of religious and civil policy is generally in- 
dicative of a higher grade of intellect, doubtless some of the best men were thus 
lost to both services ; but these were exceptional cases. The habit of sending 
land generals to fight naval battles, kept the real seaman's spirit under. It is 
not to the literature of this age that we are to look for illustrations of the sea- 
man's character- In the days of Chaucer they furnished good subjects to the 
artist; in the days of Shakspcrc, and since the Revolution, ample use has been 
made of them. But Congreve's moon-calf Ben is almost the only type of the 
sailor that was smuggled into the regions of art during the period now under 

It was not long after the Revolution that the Admiralty took up its abode 
here in the official residence where we arc spinning this yarn. It was in 168S 
that the management was permanently put in Commission. The office of Lord 
High Admiral was held by an individual till 1632. In that year it was in- 
trusted to a Commission, of which all the great officers of State were members 
Daring the Commonwealth the affairs of the navy were managed by a com- 



mittcc of parliaTiicnt, till CroinwcU took the direction of Ihcm upon himself. 
The Duke of York was Lord High Admiral during the greater part of the 
reign of CKarlcB 11.; when he ascended the throne he look the charge into hit 
own hands. Since the Kevolutiun the ofGce has always been in Commission, with 
two brief exceptions already noticed. The Revolution government, lookingabout 
in search of a residence for its naval Commissioners, placed them for a time in a 
house associated with rather a disagreeable reputation. The son of ihe infamous 
JefTcries soon wasted his father's ill-got gains by his dissolute and extravagant 
conduct. He was obliged to sell, with other property, the house which James IL 
had allowed the judge to build in Duke Street, with a gate and steps into the 
park. The house was bought by government, and converted to the use of the 
Commissioners of the Admiralty. From this they soon removed to Wallingford 
House, opposite Scotland Yard — the building from the roof of which Archbishop 
Usher had witnessed the execution of Charles I., and fainted at the sight. In 
the reign of George II., the present structure was erected on the site of Wal- 
lingford House, by Ripley; and, in the reign of George lU., the architectural 
screen, now in front of it, was drawn by the decent hand of Adam, to veil its 
homeliness. Here has been the bead-quarters of the AdmiraUy ever since it 
left the mansion of ^efferics. 

[Thii Admtmhy u U ipfieancl btfon Adin • %enta wu bttUUj 

The improvements made in the naval department of government, since the 
Revolution, have consisted chiefly in those details of management which escape the 
notice of the public. Its more prominent features have remained, on the whole, 
unaltered. The instrument wielded by the Admiralty has grown with the nation's 
growth in stature and in perfection of its organisation. Theoretical improve- 





mcnts have made their way slowly, but not the less surely. The example of the 
revolutionary government of France was required to spur on the Admiralty to 
establish a telegraph. It was not till 1795 that the important officer, the hydro- 
graphcr, was permanently annexed to the Board. Within these few years the 
steam-ships of the royal navy hai'e been regularly increasing. And during the 
time that Sir James Graham had a seat at the Navy Board, important improve- 
ments were made in the system of general management, that have rendered the 
Admiralty the best organised department of the Imperial guvcrnrocnt. In 1839 
the British navy consisted of 392 vessels of all kinds, of which 175 were in com- 
mission, 149 in ordinary, and 68 building : 34 were steam-vessels, of which only 
four were in ordinary ; of these, however, no more than seven appear to have 
been adapted for purposes uf war. There were, besides, 30 steamera employed in 
the packet-service of Great Britain. The vessels composing the navy are divided 
into three classes — the first of which consists of what are called rated ships; the 
second of sloops and bomb-vessels, or vessels commanded by a commander; the 
third of such smaller vessels as are commanded by a lieutenant, or inferior officer. 
The first class comprises ships of six rates : — the first-rate, all three decked ships; 
the serond» all two*decked ships, whose war complements consist of 700 men and 
upwards ; the third, all ships whose complements arc from GOO to 700 ; the fourth, 
ahips whose complements are from 400 to 700; the fifth, ships whose comple- 
ments are from 250 to 400 ; the sixth, ships under 250. Vessels of the first, 
second, and third rates are called line-of-battlc-ships. A 92-gun ship carries six 
eight-inch guns on its lower, and four on its main-deck, each weighing 65 cwt. ; 
and twenty-six 32-poundcrs on its lower deck, and 30 on its main-deck, each 
weighing 56 cwt., besides six, each weighing 42 cwt., on its upper-deck. This 
weight of metal, stored up in one floating fortress, may help to convey, even to 
those who have never seen that majestic object a first-rate man-of-war. some idea 
of ita terrible power for destruction ; and the true might and beauty of the ship 
may be faintly imagined when its buoyancy, the apparent ease with which this 
huge heavy mass turns and cuts its swift way through the water is conceived. 
The dark threatening hull alow, the swelling white sails and tapering masts 
•lofl, as. like " the swan on still St. Mary's lake,*' which "floats double, swan and 
shadow/' the first-rate lies mirroring itself on the glassy ocean — or tearing 
through the surge beneath a gale in which small craft could not keep the sea, 
its bright copper sheathing flashing like the brazen scales of Spenser's dragon, as 
it leaps from one mountain wave to another, one is tempted to believe that it 
was an excess of diffidence in the Promethean power of man, that made us deny 
him at the outset of these remarks the power of clothing in beauty the minis- 
tering servants created by his genius. Less imposing, but scarcely less terrible 
to an enemy, is the multitude of smaller vessels, less formidably armed, which, 
on the breaking out of a war, this nation can let loose to swarm in every gulf 
snd bay, very wasj-s and hornets, stmging the foe in the most vital parts. 

To man this navy there were voted in 1839 40, rather more than 20,000 sea- 
men of all ranks, and UOOO marines. 'J'hat is a jieace establishment. It has 
already been remarked that the peculiar character generally attributed to the 
British tar may be said to have been formed since the Revolution. It partook 



at first of that homeliness and even carelessness which characterised more or less 
the whole English nation when the Hanoverian family ascended the throne. 
When we wonder at the Hawser Trunnions of Smollett, we must keep in mind 
themannersof the real Wal pole— the licence taken in matters of language by 
jLady Mary Wortley Montague — above all, the minute details of common 
decency and cleanliness which Chesterfield expressed with such solemnity. We 
undervalue that great reformer, because every child knows and practises what he 
preached, but it is because he preached it. And amid all that undeniable rude- 
ness which made the sailor of those days the stock subject of caricaturists and 
burlesque writers, there existed that stock of unostentatious decision in action 
and shrewdness of practical judgment in the sphere with which he was familiar, 
which is the groundwork of the British Beaman*8 character. There was a quiet 
grandeur about the higher order of spirits in the navy at that time. In homely 
majesty of character no man perhaps ever surpassed Lord Anson. Favoured in 
the outset of life by his good connections, he rose in the service in a manner that 
showed he must be a good steady oflficcr, but necessarily implied nothing more. 
Twelve years of his life he was contented to let his ship " ground on his beef 
bones on a Carolina station;" entering into the pursuits of a planter with as 
much gusto as his elder brother into those of a country gentleman ; a universal 
favourite in the colony, but alleged by the ladies to be fonder of listening to 
music thiin of dancing to it, and most happy over a quiet bottle with a pro- 
fessional friend. But he rose with the occasion, and though involved in many 
perilous emergencies, never failed to prove great enough for the most trying. 
In the hour of impending shipwreck, or on the quarter-deck on the eve of battle, 
he was imperturbable, apparently apathetic till the moment for action came, and 
then his impetuosity first revealed the tremendous power of the iron will which 
must have held such energies in check. His conduct towards his prisoners, 
especially the females, during his cruise in the Pacific, was marked by equal 
courtesy and high moral self-control to what has immortalized one classical hero. 
As a promoter of the sciences which bear upon his profession, and as a civil 
administrator, ho proved that his intellect was worthy to be mated with his 
chivalrous heroism and morality. And all this under the cloak of a homely, 
retiring, and even awkward manner. The disregard of show which characterised 
men like Anson became fashionable in the navy : our seamen prided themselves 
on being men who could do much and say little. It was their boast that rol- 
licking tarry jackets could fight better than the gilded or pipe-clayed martinets 
of the land-service. Even in excess this is an honourable ambition, and it is 
to be hoped that the anxiety to prove themselves " no shams'* Avill remain un- 
altered now that the changed tone of general society and the extensiuti uf 
scientific education are smoothing off the rough angles of the scamans deport- 
ment. Science has never been neglected by him. Hallcy's observations were 
in due time followed up by the experimental trials of Meyer's lunar tables. 
Anson was not alone in that extensive study he made of Spanish discoveries 
before ho sailed on his great voyage, or in his care to eke out what he had 
learned by necessary observation and inquiry while it lasted. Phipps preceded 
Cook ; and the ]>atemal discipline of that great navigator, and the conversation 



of the men of science shipped on his voyages, trained a new and more intel- 
lectual class of officers— the Vancouvers^ Kin^, Blighs, Burncts, and Brough- 
tons. Education has done il8 part. The Naval College trains commissioned 
officers, and the Lower School at Greenwich trains warrant officers and private 
seamen. Chri&t*a Hospital has long sent an annual tribute to the navy. And 
the Hydrographer's Office finds encouragement and employment for all who 
choose to cultivate the science of their profession. The efficiency of our navy is 
increased ; our naval men occupy a front rank in the national literature and 
science ; and in the senate the sailor feels his full value recognised, and conforms 
to the prevailing tone of society. 

It is neither an unpleasant nor an unprofitable task to note how the British 
naval officer has been polished without being made eflferainate. The sailors of 
Marr}'at and poor Tom Cringle (to give him the name by which he is best 
known) contrast widely with those of Smollett and his contemporaries, but in 
refinement of manners aloue ; — the same wild and reckless glee, when for a time 
cast loose from service — the same coolness and relish for mischief or danger, 
indifferent which stimulant offers itself, provided one of them does offer — the 
■ame carrying of the single-heartedness uf the boy into the matured intellect of 
the man. Tom Cringle and Peter Simple arc genuine descendants of Tom Pipes 
and Lieutenant Hatchway ; and Master Keene — Marryat's bold attempt to lend 
an interest to a sharp self-seeking calculator of how closely a man may tread 
upon dishonesty — would, in ruder times, have grown up into one of Smollett's 
tyrannical captains. And yet it is a curious speculation — what would the old 
rough sea-dogs have thought of their successors ? Tom Pipes thought it was all 
natural enough in Peregrine Pickle to write the letter which honest Tom wore 
to rags in the sole of his shoe, and possibly did not despise the schoolmaster who 
composed a substitute for him ; but what would he have said of officers in the 
Davy publishing novels, like Marryat; and books of travels for young masters, 
like one whom wo have lost by a more melancholy stroke than death — the 
amiable and accomplished Basil Hall? 

£nough of the gallant men of whoso eyes the Admiralty is the cynosure : we 
return to the house itself It will at once be seen that here is not room for the 
whole of the managers of the huge instrument of national power just sketched in 
outline. It spreads over the whole of London, Here are the council-rooms and 
the residences of the senior Lords j and if you pass the broad easy flight of steps 
by which access is attained to the public apartments, and ascend the narrow dark 
stairs beyond it, you will find yourself in the labyrinth of narrow passages, con- 
ducting to small rooms crowded with boxes and drawers full of charts, in which 
the busy hydrographical department is constantly at work. On the west side of 
the great square of Somerset House are the Victualling, Navy-Pay, and Trans- 
port branches of the Navy Office. The west terrace of the same structure con- 
tains the official houses of the Treasurer and the Comptroller of the Navy, of 
three Commissioners of the Navy Board, and the principal officers of the 
Victualling Department. Other branches of the management of the navy must 
he sought at Sheerness, Portsmouth, Plymouth, and even in the colonial dock- 
yards. Greenwich, with its Upper and Lower Schools, and its Hospital, is a 



mcrclmnl-«crvirc it is not merely a trifling economy that is attained; it Vccf 
alive in the merchant-service a consciousncas of its own importance that i» 
rarourablc to the general character. If the navy captain look forward to be an 
admiral, the merchant captain can look forward to become an Elder Brother of 
the Trinity House, intrusted with the supervision and control of the lightage 
And pilotage of a great part of the kingdom, rendering himself of importance to 
the public hy his care for the safety of navigation and navigators. At no lime 
hi\H the merchant-service shown itself unsusceptible of the due sense of its re- 
Bjionsibility. Officers who have risen high in the royal service have begun their 
career before the mast, not only in merchantmen of the long voyage, but in 
coasters. Cook was apprentice in a collier. At the time of the mutiny at the 
Norc, the jirescncc of mind of an Elder Brother who proposed and executed the 
removing of the buoys, which marked the seaward channel, paralyzed the motions 
of the mutineers. When invasion from France was ajtpTehonded, the task of 
preparing defences, at the mouth of the river, was intrusted to the Board of the 
Trinity House, and skilfully executed. The merchant-service has kept pace with 
the awakening spirit of the age, as well as the navy. The Lower School at Green- 
wich supjtlies the merchant-service, as well as the Royal navy, with able, edu- 
cated seamen. The Kast India trade has formed a valuable branch of the 
merchant service. Many extensive ship-owners manifest a most laudahle anxiety 
to promote the education, both professional and moral, of their apprentices, and 
to advnncc the young men from rank to rank as they prove themselves worthy. 
Many have done well in this respect, but none have evinced more persevering 
interest in then eietes, more judicious and paternal care for them, than the Glad- 
stotics of Liverpool. To show the high character attained by our mercantile 
marine under these auspices, it is only necessary to name the Scoresbys, the 
Enderbys, the Warhams, the Becrofts, and Lairds, who have competed for the 
palm with the Hoyal navy in urging onward tlie progress of discovery. 

To a superficial observer the maritime administration of England appears a 
chaos — much that ia of vital consequence seems to bo neglected. But observa- 
tions, such sl^ have now been provoked by our visit to the Admiralty and Trinity 
House, show that this is a misconception. The secret of the efficiency of our 
marine is that it governs itself, and that all classes belonging to it can, in some 
way or other, attain to a voice in its management. The bureaux of the Ad- 
miralty ci-ntain many practical and experienced seamen; and it is well known 
that in a government like ours, in Avhich party leaders chase each other in and 
out of office, the permanent secretaries in the offices are, in nine cases out of ten, 
the real ministers. The active members of the Trinity Board are recruited from 
the ranks of the merchant service. The Trinity House consnlts the Admiralty 
in cases of difficulty; the Admiralty intrusts to the Trinity Board important 
practical dnlies. The Hydrographer's Office — the statistical department of the 

'mirally — forms a connecting link between the two Boards. These practically 
ncd officials are watched and checked by unofficial pupils of the same school 
icmbcrs of the Royal navy, or wealthy ship-owncra — whose ambition has car- 
mlo parliament The maritime administration and legislation of Great 
I all other parts of the British constitution, ha^ rather grown than 


rcen made what it is, and it has sprung up stately and athletic. As the nation 
grows, so must it be extended ; as the nation improves, so must the details of its 
organisation be amended. But the grand outline must be adhered to, for it is the 
form that nature has given to us, and to tamper with, or mutilate it, is death. 

Here wc close our retrospect ; but standing in the new Trinity House when 
we break off, as wc stood in the Admiralty when wc began, our eyes resting on 
the old banners, and plans of a'most forgotten fights, evolutions, and tTio gilded 
names of benefactors of the corporation, our mind wanders back to the habita- 
tions of the naval rulers of England in ancient days. They have vanu^*"!: the 
Navy Office, in Crutched Friars, will be sought in vain. The sicne ot the me- 
morable siege of poor, precise, garrulous Mr. Pepys by a bum-bailiff is ao more. 
It was a memorable siege that ; far transcending in interest even that which my 
uncle Toby, with the aid of the jackboots cut up into cannons by Trimj carried 
on in his garden. Valiantly were the outworks defended by the servitors of the 
Admiralty ; ruthlessly persevering was the blockade into which the bum con- 
verted his repulsed assault; and then, when Pepys is stolen out at the back win- 
dows, one feels as if one would have felt if in the tale of Troy divine Kneaa 
had carried off Helen and the Palladium before the death of Hector, and the 
Greeks, learning that what they sought was no longer there, had quietly beaten a 

The Old Trinity House, in Water Lane, is not even that in which Pepys 
laboured : it was rebuilt in 1718, after a iirc which destroyed many important 
records. Yet is there something in the old Trinity House of the engraving 
which forms our tail-piece that might almost persuade us it was the veritable 
scene of Pepys' daily in-goings and out-comings. Between his time and the reign 
of the first George the architecture of London had undergone little change. And 
standing here in the clean, narrow, paved court, with tall brick tenements orna- 
mented by protruding architvavos of stone over door and window, and the little 
ecroU-shaped tablets containing the narrative of the destruction of the building 
by fire, and its re- edification, wc feel that the hero of the rent camlet cloak, 
which, "though it was a trifle, yet it did vex him," would not be here out of 
place. It is strange how this intellectual and moral pigmy has so indissolubly 
associated himself in our imagination with the mighty navy of Great Britain. 
It is as if. in in\enting a naval mythology for our country, wc were to shape the 
presiding genius after the model of some Nipcheesc the purser. Yet the little 
man, though garrulous and vain, was of real service to the navy. He had a 
turn for accurate book-keeping, a love of justice, a power of estimating that 
greatness in others he so entirely wanted in himself, and it became with him a 
paBsion to see that justice was done to the navy. In good times and in bad times 
tic adhered to his purpose — when it was fashionable at court to be honest (that 
vas at very brief intervals), and when it was unfashionable. He was a good old 
woman, ever watchful for the interests of this brawny son of his adoption, and 
succeeding in being useful to him. It is the old story of the dwarf befriending 
Ihc giant — of the mouse setting free the lion — of Wamba, the son of Witless, 
tringing rescue to Cocur-de-Lion. If this had been a Popish country, it would 

1 -ll:^^': 


Cbmhit orlhitcb Ckarch. Atutio frwn.] 


No. I. — Before the Fire. 

the cJiurcK 


Comhill, there has been from time immemorial a 
tablet bearing a very remarkable inscription, and which, if trustworthy in tho 
chief matter to which it refers, not only points out to us the locality of the oldest 
of metropolitan Christian churches, but the very first edifice of the kind raised 
in Great Britain. The tablet was *' fast chained " in the church in Stow's time, 
and although written by what authority he knew not, was certainly then "of no 
late hand." Thus runs it : "Be it known unto all men that the year of our 
Lord God C.lxxix. Lucius, the first Christian king of this land, then called Bri- 
tain, founded the first church in London, that is to say, the church of St Peter, 
upon Cornhill ; and he founded there an archbishop's see, and made that church 
the metropolitan and chief church of this kingdom ; and so [it] endured the space 
of CCCC. years, unto the coming of St. Austin [Augustine], the Apostlo ol 
England, the which was sent into this land by St. Gregory, the Doctor of the 

VOL. V. M 

church in ihe time of King Ethclbcrt. Aii*l then wm the archbifihop's wc anJ 
pall removed from, the aforesaid church of St. Pclcr, ujKin Cornhill. unto • Dere 
bernauin/ that now is called Canterbury, and there remaineth to this day. And 
Millet [McUittts], monk, the which came into the land with St Austin, was made 
the first bishop of London, and his see was made in Paul's church." The tabid 
then goes on to inform us how many years after Brute Lucius reigned, 
M.C.C.xlv. (the precision of these old chroniclers is admirable), how long his reigB 
lasted — no less than seventy-seven years ; and that he was, according to one chroni 
cle, buried in London, whilst another set him down at Gloucester, " in that place 
where the order of St. Francis standcth now." But this is by no meaus the entire 
extent of our information as to these very ambitious claims of St. Peter's, Cora- 
hiU. Stow al&o gives us. on the authority of ' JoccUnc of Fumcis,' the names of 
both the first and second archbishops. Thcan and Elvanus» as well as of their 
fourteen successors ; and informs us that whilst the first, aided by King Lucius's 
butler, Ciran, creeled the church, the second added a library, and *' con%'erted 
many of the Druids, learned men in the Pagan law, to Christianity." He adds. 
evidently with a lingering belief in the story, '* True it is, that a library there 
was pertaining to the parish church of old time buildcd of stone.'** It also ap- 
pears a school was held there from some very early^ but unknown, period. Alto- 
gether, the story forms so delightful a piece of antiquarian gossip, that we wish 
it was in our power to assert its undeniable truth. * 

Turning to a more general view of our subject, and to matter of a less ro- 
mantic, but more trustworthy nature, it may bo observed that the first (in time) 
of our metropolitan topographers, Fitz-Stephen, amongst his notices of the tem- ^ 
pcratcncss of the air and the strength of the place, the honour of its citizens. H 
and the chastity of its matrons, its schools, its customs, and its sports, docs not* 
of course, exclude a view of the provision of the religious demands of his fa- ^ 
Tonrite city ; and brief and unadorned as is the single sentence with which he H 
dismisses the subject, the facts he gives us derive considerable interest as well as 
value from the antiquity of the period referred to. It is something to be able to 
lift off the dark mist that hangs over the Iiondon of the middle ages, even though 
it be but to learn that " there arc in London and in the suburbs 13 churches 
belonging to convents, besides 126 lesser parish churches.*' And a very striking 
illustration the statement forms of the wealth and zeal of the inhabitants of 
London, as well as of their great numbers during the period in question, and 
makes it probable that there ie no error, after all, as to the 'JO.OOO armed men 
who. according to the same writer (himself probably an eye-witness), went out to 
a muster in the neighbourhood " in the fatal wars under King Stephen." Nay, 
it should seem, if we may judge of the increase of the population by the increase 
of churches, that that population had been stationary for some centuries after 
Fitz-Stephen's time, for when Stow wrote, the entire number of churches in and 
about London within four miles' compass was but 139 : the exact number men- 
tioned by Fitz-Stophen, if wc add the conventual to the parish churches, as Slow 
does in his list with regard to all that were still preserved. And thus, no doubt, 
they remained down to 166C, when the great fire destroyed at once 89 of their 

* Slow, ed. 1«3», It, 211. 







number, many of them never again to rise from their ruins. Fitz-Stephen gives 
us no enumeration of the buildings he mentions, but this is of little importance. 
for Slow does ; and it i» tolerably clear that the buildings he refers to arc almost 
identical with the buildings mentioned by Fitz-Stephen. So that however much 
older than the twelfth century may have been the churches of London generally 
that existed before the fire, it is evident that their foundation must be referred 
to at least that early period. Eleven of the thirteen "belonging to convents" 
may be traced with precision. We find on examination that there were in 
existence m Fitz-Stephen 's time, Trinity Priory, Aldgate, founded iu 1108 
by good Queen Maud, wife of Henry I., for Regular Canons of the rule of 
St. Augustine, by whose influence "was the number of those that praised 
God day and night so much increased, that the whole city was much delighted 
with the sight of it ;"• St. Bartholomew's, already fully treated of in our 
pages; Bcrmondsey, the same; St. James Priory, Clerkenwell, founded for 
Black nuns about 1100, near the famous well from which it derived its name ; 
the Priory of St. John the Baptist, near another well of still higher repute — 
Holywell, Shoreditch ; St. Katharine's Hospital, founded by Matilda, Stephen's 
queen, of which the building in Regent's Park is the legitimate descendant; 
St. Thomas Aeon, founded in honour of Fitz-Stephen's master, Beckett^ by the 
ambitious churchman's sister and her husband, within a few years aflcr his 
murder, and on the site of their father's house, in which Beckett himself was 
bom; St. John of Jerusalem, Clerkenwell, the house of the Hospitallers; and 
the Temple, the house of their rivals ; St Mary Overies, noticed in our first 
volume; and, lastly, St. Marlin's-lc-Grand, which, both from its antiquity and 
its magnificence, was appropriately named; it was founded in 700, by a king of 
Kent, Wythred ; rebuilt, and a great increase made to its endowments, about 
1056, by two noble Saxon brothers ; confirmed in all its rights, privileges, and 
possessions by the Conqueror, who made it not merely independent of his own 
or the kingly jurisdiction, but of the Papal also, and which, among its other 
noticeable features, included within its precincts a sanctuary, that seems to have 
been the Alsatia of an earlier day. For a certain class of persons, those who had 
oc4!asion to pass to and fro between Newgate and Guildhall on business of a more 
indispensable than agreeable nature, this sanctuary was must conveniently situated, 
and the advantages it offered were fully ajipreciated. Thus, in 1439, when a 
soldier for some crime was pursuing the route mentioned, five men rushing out 
suddenly from Panyer Alley rescued him, and the whole fled into St. Martin's. 
The Sheriffs in their irritation were incautious enough to follow them into the 
church, seize them, and send them to Newgate ; but the authorities soon compelled 
them to replace the offenders in the sacred building. 

If the great fire of London was calculated to beget in the minds of contempo- 
raries the deepest awe and astonishment at the amount of the mischief consum- 
mated within so small a space, those feelings were not likely to be lessened by 
the peculiar severity of the visitation as it regarded the churches of London, In 
the following list is shown in alphabetical order the churches as they stood in the 
beginning of the seventeenth century, when the central portion of London must 

« 6tov« p. 9»l. 

)4 V 



Tnittce of partianient. till Cromwell took the dirprtion of them upon ^iimsel 
The Duke of York was Lord Hig;h Admiral during the greater part of the 
rcign of Charles II. ; when he ascended the throne he took the charge into hit 
own hands. Since the Revolution the office has always been in Commission, with 
two brief exceptions already noticed. The Revolution government, looking about 
in search of a residence for its naval Commissioners, placed them for a time in a 
house associated with rather a disagreeable reputation. The son of the infamous 
Jcffcries soon wasted his father's ill*got gains by his dissolute and extravagant^ 
conduct. He was obliged to sell, with other property, the house which James 11*^ 
had allowed the judge to build in Duke Street, with a gate and steps into the 
park. The house was bought by government, and converted to the use of the 
Commissioners of the Admiralty. From this they soon removed to Wallingford 
House, opposite Scotland Yard — the building from the roof of which Archbishop 
Usher had witnessed the execution of Charles I., and fainted at the sight. la^ 
the reign of George II., the ])re8ent structure was erected on the site of Wal-( 
lingford House, by Ripley; and, in the reign of George III., the architectural 
screen, now in front of it, was drawn by the decent hand of Adam, to veil its 
homeliness. Here has been the head-quarters of the Admiralty ever since it 
left the mansion of 5efferic8i 

[Th* AdntnUy m It appeand b«roR AiUm ■ kmm ww ImUIu] 

The improvements made in the naval department of government, since the 
Revolution, have consisted chiefly in those details of management which esi*ape the 
notice of the public. Its more prominent features have remained, un the whole.^| 
unaltered. The instrument wielded by the Admiralty has grown with the nation's^ 
growth in stature and in perfection of its organisation. Theoretical improve- 



'inents have made their way slowly, but not the less surely- The example of the 
revolutionary government of France was required to spur on the Admiralty to 
establish a telegraph. It was not till 1795 that the important officer, the hydro- 
graphcr, was permanently annexed to the Board. Within these few years the 
■tcam'ships of the royal navy have been regularly increasing. And during tho 
time that Sir James Graham had a seat at the Navy Board, important improve- 
ments were made in the system of general management, that have rendered the 
Admiralty the best organised department of the Imperial government. In 1839 
the British navy consisted of 392 vessels of all kinds, of which 175 were in com- 
misaion, 149 in ordinary, and 68 building: 34 were steam-vesseU, of which only 
four were in ordinary ; of these, however, no more than seven appear to have 
been adapted for purjioscs of war. There were, besides, 30 steamei-s employed in 
the packet-service of Great Britain. The vessels composing the navy are divided 
into three classes — the first of which consists of what are called rated ships ; the 
second of sloops and bomb-vessels, or vessels commanded by a commander; the 
third of such smaller vessels as are commanded by a lieutenant, or inferior officer. 
The first class comprises ships of six rates : — the first-rate, all three decked ships; 
the aerond, all two-decked ships, whose war complements consist of 700 men and 
npwards ; the third, all ships whose complements are from 600 to 700 ; the fourth, 
■hips whose complements are from 400 to 700; the fifth, ships whose comple- 
teents are from 250 to 400 ; the sixth, ships under 250. Vessels of the first, 
lecond. and third rates are called line-of-battle-ships. A 92-gun ship carries six 
eight-inch guns on its lower, and four on its main-deck, each weighing 65 cwt. ; 
And twenty-six 32-pounder8 on its lower deck, and 30 on its main-deck, each 
Weighing 56 cwt., besides six, each weighing 42 cwt., on its upper-deck. This 
weight of metal, stored up in one floating fortress, may help to convey, even to 
those who have never seen that majestic object a first-rate man-of-war. some idea 
of its terrible power for destruction ; and the true might and licauty of the ship 

ay be faintly imagined when its buoyancy, the apparent ease with which this 
luge heavy mass turns and cuts its swift way through the water is conceived. 
The dark threatening hull alow, the swelling white sails and tapering masts 
aloft, as, like " the swan on still St. Mary's lake," which " floats double, swan and 
ih&dow," the first-rate lies mirroring itself on the glassy ocean — or tearing 
through the surge beneath a gale in which small craft could not keep the sea, 
its bright copper sheathing flashing like the brazen scales of Spenser's dragon, as 
it leaps from one mountain wave to another, one is tempted to believe that it 
•was an excess of diffidence in the Promethean power of man, that made us deny 
him at the outset of these remarks the power of clothing in beauty the minis- 
tering servants created by his genius. Less imposing, but scarcely less terrible 
to an enemy, is the multitude of smaller vessels, less formidably armed, which, 
on the breaking out of a war, this nation can let loose to swarm in every gulf 
And bay, very wasps and hornets, stmgmg the foe in the most vital parts. 

To man this navy there were voted in 1839 40, rather more than 20,000 sea- 
men of all ranks, and 9000 marines. That is a peace establishment. It has 
already been remarked that the peculiar character generally attributed to the 
British tar may be said to have been formed since the Revolution. It partook 



at first of that homeliness and even carelessness which characterised more or lees 
the whole English nation when the Hanoverian family ascended the throne. 
When we wonder at the Hawser Trunnions of Smollett, we must keep in mind 
the manners of the real Walpole — the licence taken in matters of language by 
Lady Mary Wortley Montague — above all, the minute details of common 
decency and cleanliness which Chesterfield expressed with such solemnity. We 
undervalue that great reformer, hecausc every child knows and practises what he 
preached, but it is because he preached it. And amid all that undeniable rude- 
DCfls which made the sailor of those days the stock subject of caricaturists and 
burlesque writers, there existed that stock of unostentatious decision in action 
and shrewdness of practical judgment in the sphere with which he was familiar, 
which is the groundwork of the British seaman's character. There was a quiet 
grandeur about the higher order of spirits in the navy at that time. In homely 
majesty of character no man perhaps ever surpassed Lord Anson. Favoured in 
the outset of life by his good connections, he rose in the service in a manner that 
showed he must be a good steady officer, but necessarily implied nothing more. 
Twelve years of his life he was contented to let his ship " ground on his beef 
bones on a Carolina station ;" entering into the pursuits of a planter with as 
much gusto as his elder brother into those of a country gentleman ; a universal 
favourite in the colony, but alleged by the ladies to be fonder of listening to 
music than of dancing to it, and most happy over a quiet bottle with a pro- 
fessional friend. But he rose with the occasion, and though involved in many 
perilous emergencies, never failed to prove great enough for the most trying. 
In the hour of impending shipwreck, or on the quarter-deck on the eve of battle, 
he was imperturbable, apparently apathetic till the moment for action came, and 
then his impetuosity first revealed the tremendous power of the iron will which 
must have held such energies in check. His conduct towards bia prisoners, 
especially the females, during his cruise in the Pacificj was marked by equal 
courtesy and high moral self-control to what has immortalized one classical hero. 
As a promoter of the sciences which bear upon his profession, and as a civil 
administrator, ho proved that his intellect was worthy to be mated with his 
chivalrous heroism and morality. And ail this under the cloak of a homely, 
retiring, and even awkward manner. The disregard of show which characterised 
men like Anson became fashionable in the navy : our seamen prided themselves 
on being men who could do much and say little. It was their boast that rol- 
licking tarry jackets could fight better than the gilded or pipe-clayed martinets 
of the land-service. Even in excess this is an honourable ambition, and it is 
to be hoped that the anxiety to prove themselves "no shams*' will remain un- 
altered now that the changed tone of general society and the extension of 
scientific education arc smoothing off the rough angles of the seaman's deport- 
ment. Science has never been neglected by him. Hallcy's observations were 
in duo time followed up by the experimental trials of Meyer's lunar tables. 
Anson was not alone in that extensive study he made of Spauish discoveries 
before he sailed on his great voyage, or in his care to eke out what he had 
learned by necessary observation and inquiry while it lasted. Phipps preceded 
Cook ; and the paternal discipline of that great navigator, and the conversation 





of the men of science shipped ou his voyages, trained a new and more intel- 
lectual class of officers — the Vancouvers, Kings, Blighs, Burnets, and Brough- 
tons. Education has done its part. The Naval College trains commissioned 
officers, and the Longer School at Greenwich trains warrant officers and private 
seamen. Christ's Hospital has long sent an annual tribute to the navy. And 
the Hydrog7"apher's Office finds encouragement and employment for all who 
choose to cultivate the science of their profession. The efficiency of our navy is 
increased ; our naval men occupy a front rank in the national literature and 
science ; and in the senate the sailor feels his full value recognised, and conforms 
to the prevailing tone of society. 

It is neither an un])1easant nor an unprofitable task to note how the British 
naval officer has been polished without being made effeminate. The sailors of 
Marryat and poor Tom Cringle (to give him the name by which he is best 
known) contrast widely with those of Smollett and his contemporaries, but in 
refinement of manners alone ; — the same wild and reckless glee, when for a time 
cast loose from service — the same coolness and relish for mischief or danger, 
indifferent which stimulant offers itself, provided one of them docs offer— the 
same carrying of the single-heartedness of the boy into the matured intellect of 
the man. Tom Cringle and Peter Simple are genuine descendants of Tom Pipes 
and Lieutenant Hatchway ; and Master Keene — Marrj^at's bold attempt to lend 
an interest to a sharp self-seeking calculator of how closely a man may tread 
upon dishonesty — would, in ruder times, have grown up into one of Smollett's 
tyrannical captains. And yet it is a curious speculation — what would the old 
rough sea-dogs have thought of their successors? Tom Pipes thought it was all 
natural enough in Peregrine Pickle to write the letter which honest Tom wore 
to rags in the sole of his shoe, and possibly did not despise the schoolmaster who 
composed a substitute for him ; but what would he have said of officers in the 
navy publishing novels, like Marr}'at; and books of travels for young masters, 
like one whom we have lost by a more melancholy stroke than death— the 
amiable and accomplished Basil Hall? 

Enough of the gallant men of whose eyes the Admiralty is the cynosure : wo 
return to the house itself. It will at once be seen that here is not room for the 
whole of the managers of the huge instrument of national power just sketched in 
outline. It spreads over the whole of London. Here are the council-rooms and 
the residences of the senior Lords; and if you pass the broad easy flight of steps 
by which access is attained to the public apartments, and ascend the narrow dark 
stairs beyond it, you w^ill find yourself in the labyrinth of narrow passages, con- 
ducting to small rooms crowded with boxes and drawers full of charts, in which 
the busy hydrographical department is constantly at work. On the west side of 
the great square of Somerset House are the Victualling, Navy-Pay. and Trans- 
port branches of the Navy Office. The west terrace of the same structure con- 
tains the official houses of the Treasurer and the Comj)troUer of the Navy, of 
three Commissioners of the Navy Board, and the principal officers of the 
Victualling Department. Other branches of the management of the navy must 
be sought at Shccmcss, Portsmouth, Plymouth, and even in the colonial dock- 
yards. Greenwich, with its Upper and Lower Schools^ and its Hospital, is a 



part of tho great system, the training-place of the saUor-boy, and the refuge of 
the worn-out veteran. And. wide though the space be which this administration 
of the navy ii Us, a communicatiun of inconceivable rapidity and regularity is 
kept up by the cabs and busses of the metropolis, the telegraphs of the Admi- 
ralty, the railroads on shore, and the steamers at sea. Where is the " Ministry 
of Marine?'' a native of the trim governments of the continent, where all de- 
partments of state arc organised after the newest drill fashion, asks when he first 
comes to England. It is everywheie in the British dominions. This is the cha- 
racteristic of British government^ that a few heads, by enllsling, when occasion 
calls, the energies of private individuals and associations, make the nation 
govern itself. The Steam Navigation Company, or even the Metropolitan 
Parcels Delivery Company, act occasionally as Admiralty messengers, and do 
their duty as effectively as if they were liveried retainers constantly in waiting, 
and devoid of other occupation. By such simple means is it that in the control 
of a fleet which girdles the globe with a navy of stations, the obstacles of time 
and space are well nigh set at nought. 

But the mi-chanism of our navy and the great secret of its power will be im- 
perfectly comprehended unless we turn our attention to the inmates of a not 
inelegant structure in the handsome Trmity Square on Tower Hill. 

The Trinity House has already been more than once mentioned m the course 
of these remarks. The architectural pretensions of the building are far superior 
to those of the Admiralty ; and Che corporation which transacts its business there 
is the right arm of the British minister of marine. 

Henry VHl., it is said, established the Trinity House about the same time 
that he constituted the Admiralty and the Navy OiBce. It is not easy to say 
how the truth stands, for the records of the Trinity House were destroyed by 
fire early in the eighteenth century. But some expressions in the earliest char- 
ters of the corporation that have been preserved, and the general analogy of 
the history of English corporations, lead us to believe that Henry merely gave 
a new charter, and intrusted the discharge of important duties to a guild or 
incorporation of seamen which had existed long before. When there was no perma- 
nent royal navy, and even after one had been created, so long as vessels continued 
to be pressed in war time as well as men, the king of England had to repose 
much more confidence in the wealthier masters of tho merchant-service than now. 
They were at sea what his feudal chiefs were on shore. Their guild or brother- 
hood of the Holy Trinity of Deptford Strand were probably tolerated at first 
in the assumption of a power to regulate the entry and training of apjircntices, 
the licensing of journeymen, and the promotion to the rank of master in their 
craft, in the same way as learned and mechanical corporations did on shore. 
To a body which counted among its memlwrs the best mariners of Britain came 
not unnaturally to be intrusted the ballastage and pilotage of the river. By 
degrees its jurisdiction came to be extended to such other English ports as 
had not, like the Cinque Ports, privileges and charters of their own : and in course 
of time tho jurisdiction of the Trinity House became ])ermanent in these matters, 
with the exception of the harbours we have named, over the whole coast of 
England, from a little way north of Yarmouth on the east to the frontiers of 




Scotland on the west. Elizabeth, always ready to avail herself of the costless 
stTvicea of her citizens, confided to this corporation the charge of Knglish sca- 
snarks. When lighthouses were introduced, the judges pronounced them com- 
prehended in the terms of Elizabeth's charter, although a right of chartering 
private lighthouses was reserved to the Crown. When the navigation laws 
were introduced by Cromwell and rc-cnactcd by the government of the Resto- 
ration, the Trinity House presented itself as an already organised machinery 
for enforcing the regulations respecting the number of aliens admissible as 
mariners on board a British vessel. James II., when he ascended the throne» 
was well aware of the use that could be made of the Trinity House, and he 
gave it a new charter, and the constitution it still retains, nominating as the 
first miister of the reconstructed corporation his invaluable Pepys. 

The Corporation of the Trinity House consists of Younger and Elder 
Brethren. The number of Younger Brethren is unlimited: they are com- 
manders in the merchant-service who have never served under a foreign flag; 
they are admitted on the nomination of the Elder Brethren, after taking the 
oaths prescribed by the charter. The Elder Brethren are thirty-one in number: 
eleven are considered noble, or in the honorary line of the brotherhood ; and 
twenty are taken from the merchant sea-service. Vacancies at the board of 
Elder Brethren are 6lled up by their electing (by ballot; a successor; if to an 
honorary member from any admirals of the navy, ministers of state, and other 
persons of distinction; if to one of the merchant-line from among the Younger 
Brethren. The business of the board is in reality managed by the twenty 
members from the merchant-service, the hunoraries rarely, if ever, interfering. 
T'he board consists of a master, four wardens, eight assistants, and eighteen 
Elder Brethren, stmjily so called. The business of the board is transacted by 
committees, six in number; the first and principal is called the Committee of 
Wardens: it consists of the Depute Master and the four wardens; it exercises 
■ general control and takes charge more especially of the treasury and accounts. 
The second committee, consisting also of four members, is for the examination 
of masters in the navy and pilots. To ensure the competency of these cxami' 
nations, the Elder Brethren are neirer appointed upon this committee until they 
have been in the corporation some time, in order that the experience they gain 
by being emjiloyed on surveys of the coast may qualify them for the task. 
The third committee, consisting of two members, is for the supervision of 
ballastage in the river Thames; the fourth is the committee of lighthouses ; 
the fifth for the collection of dues; and the sixth for attending to the pensioners 
aud inmates of the noble almshouses belonging to the corporation. 

This brief recapitulation of the constitution and functions of the corporation 
will sufEce to show that it is an institution by means of which the energies of 
the independent seamen which proved so available in the reign of Elizabeth 
have been retained in the service of the state down to the present moment. 
The lighting, beaconing, and buoying of the coasts, the examination and 
licensing of pilots, and we trust ere long to add the examination and licensing 
of masters and mates of merchant-vessels, are branches of maritime police, 
functions of the general government. By devolving them upon the incorporated 





merc>»ant-Bervire it is not merely a trifling economy that is attained ; it keeps 
alive in the merchant-service a consciousness of its own importance that is 
favourable to tlie general character. If the navy captain look forward to be an 
ndmirAl, the merchant captain can look forward to become an Elder Brother of 
the Trinity House, intrusted ^vith the supervision and control of the Ughtage 
and pilotage of a great part of the kingdom, rendering himself of importance to 
the public by his care for the safety of navigation and navigators. At no time 

' has the merchant-service shown itself unsusceptible of the due sense of its re- 
sponsibility. Officers who have risen high in the royal service have begun their 
career before the mast, not only in merchantmen of the long voyage, but in 
coasters. Cook was apprentice in a collier. At the time of the mutiny at the 
Norc, the presence of mind of an Elder Brother who proposed and executed the 
removing of the buoys, which marked the seaward channel, paraly^-ed the motions 
of the mutineers. When invasion from France was apprehended, the task of 
preparing defences, at the mouth of the river, was intrusted to the Board of the 
Trinity House, and skilfully executed. The merchant-service has kept pace with 
the awakening spirit of the age, as well as the navy. The Lower School at Green- 
wich supi)lie8 the merchant-service, as well as the Royal navy, with able, edu- 
cated seamen. The East India trade has formed a valuable branch of the 
merchant-service. Many extensive ship-owners manifest a most laudable anxiety 
to promote the education, both professional and moral, of their apprentices, and 
to advance the young men from rank to rank as they prove themselves worthy. 
Many have done well in this respect, but none have evinced more persevering 
interest ia iheir eleies, more judicious and ])atcrnal care for them, than the Glad- 

I »tonc» of Liverpool. To show the high character attained by our mercantile 
marine under these auspices, it is only necessary to name the Scoresbys, the 
Enderbys, the Warhams, the Becrofta, and Lairds, who have competed for the 
palm with the lloyal navy in urging onward the progress of discovery. 

To a superficial observer the maritime administration of England appears a 
chaoe — much that is of vital consequence seems to be neglected. But observa- 
tions, such a* have now been provoked by our visit to the Admiralty and Trinity 
House, show that this is a misconception. The secret of the efficiency of our 
marine is that it governs itself, and that all classes belonging to it can, in some 
way or other, attain to a voice in its management. The bureaux of the Ad- 
miralty rtntain many practical and experienced seamen; and it is well known 
that in a government like ours, in which party leaders chase each other in and 
out of office, the permanent secretaries in the offices are, in nine cases out of ten, 
the real ministers. The active members of the Trinity Board are recruited from 
the ranks of the merchant service. The Trinity House consults the Admiralty 
in cases of difficulty; the Admiralty intrusts to the Trinity Board important 
practical duties. The Hydrographer's Officc^thc statistical department of the 
Admiralty — forms a connecting link between the two Boards. These practically 

rlraincd officials arc watched and checked by unofficial pupils of the same school 
' — members of the Royal navy, or wealthy ship-owners — whose ambition has car- 
ried them into parliament. The maritime administration and legislation of Great 
Britaioj like all other parts of the British constitution, ba^ rather grown than 




l>ccn made what it is, and it has sprung up stately and athletic. As the nation 
grows, so must it be extended ; as the nation improves, so must the details of its 
organisation be amended. But the grand outline must be adhered to, for it is the 
form that nature has given to us, and to tamper with, or mutilate it, is dcalh. 

Here we close our retrospect ; but standing in the new Trinity House when 
we break off, as wc stood in the Admiralty when we began, our eyes resting on 
the old banners, and plans of a'niost forgotten fights, evolutions, and the gilded 
names of benefactors of the corporation, our mind wanders back to the habita- 
tions of the naval rulers of England in ancient days. Thoy have vaniAT**!: the 
Navy Oifice, in Crutched Friars, will be sought in vain. The scene ot ihe me- 
morable siege of poor, precise, garrulous Mr. Pepys by a bum-bailiff is uo more. 
It was a memorable siege that; far transcending in interest even that which my 
uncle Toby, with the aid of the jackboots cut up into cannons by Trim, carried 
on in his garden. Valiantly were the outworks defended by the servitors of the 
Admiralty ; ruthlessly persevering was the blockade into which the bum con- 
verted his repulsed assault; and then, when Pepys is stolen out at the back win- 
dows, one feels as if one would have felt if in the tale of Troy divine }i!neas 
had carried off Helen and the Palladium before the death of Hector, and the 
Greeks, learning that what they sought was no longer there, had quietly beaten a 

The Old Trinity House, in Water Lane, is not even that in which Pepys 
laboured: it was rebuilt in I71S, after a fire which destroyed many important 
records. Yet is there something in the old Trinity House of the engraving 
which forms our tail-piece that might almost persuade us it was the veritable 
scene of Pepys' daily in-goings and out-comings. Between his time and the reign 
of the first George the architecture of London had undergone little change. And 
standing here in the clean, narrow, paved court, with tall brick tenements orna- 
mented by protruding architraves of stone over door and window, and the little 
scroll-shaped tablets containing the narrative of the destruction of the building 
by fire, and its re -edification, we feel that the hero of the rent camlet cloak, 
which, "though it was a trifle, yet it did vex him," would not be here out of 
place. It is strange how this intellectual and moral pigmy has so indisfiolubly 
associated himself in our imagination with the mighty navy of Great Britain. 
It is as if, in inventing a naval mythology for our country, we were to shape the 
presiding genius after the model of some Nipcheosc the purser. Yet the little 
man, though garrulous and vain, was of real service to the navy. He had a 
turn for accurate book-keeping, a love of justice, a i>owcr of estimating that 
greatness in others he so entirely wanted in himself, and it became with him a 
ipassion to see that justice was done to the navy. In good times and in bad times 
Hie adhered to his purposc-^whcn it was fashionable at court to be honest (that 
vss at very brief intervals), and when it was unfashionable. He was a good old 
roman, ever watchful for the interests of this brawny son of his adoption, and 
lucceeding in being useful to him. It is the old story of the dwarf befriending 
the giant — of the mouse setting free the lion — of Wamba, the son of Witless, 
Vringing rescue to Cceur-de-Lion. If this had been a Popish country, it would 



liare been the duty of the mariners of the royal navy to burn wax tapers before 
the effigies of St. Pepys. 

In this want of antiquity the residences of the managers of our mercantile and 
our military navy resemble cvcr)'thing around them. London was a city in the 
time of Tacitus ; yet the edifices of London are, with few exceptions, eHsentially 
modem. This is typical of our civil and social organisation, in which everything 
is the creation of the day, and yet retains tne impress of an old antiquity 
We arc an ancient people, hut we arc the flesh and blood sons of our ancestors, 
not animated mummies, presenting caricatures of their Lineaments. 

\Oli 'rtlnltj H«Mv«. (ki^AMi uiii»ii]riBu«i ptiut latb*^«niiiii* eaK««ui)«. 


i ^.^ -^ 

CKsiertor of Dalcb Chnrdt, AuMtn PrUn.] 


No. I. — Bkfore the FlHE. 

In the church of St. Peter, Cornhill, there has been from time immemonal a 
tablet bearing a very remarlcable inBcnption. and which, if trustworthy in the 
chief matter to which it refers, not only points out to us the locality of the oldest 
of metropolitan Christian churches, but the very first edifice of the kind raised 
in Gruat Britain. The tablet was "fast chained'* in the church in Stow's time, 
and although written by what authority he knew not, was certainly then "of no 
late hand." Thus runs it : "Be it known unto all men that the year of our 
Lord God C.lxxix. Lucius, the first Christian king of this land, then called Bri- 
tain, founded the first church in London, that is to say, the church of St. Peter, 
upon Cornhill ; and he founded there an archbishop's sec, and made that church 
the metropolitan and chief church of this kingdom ; and so [it] endured the space 
of CCCC. years, unto the coming of St. Austin [Augustine], the Apostlo of 
Cngland, the which was sent into thii land by St. Gregory, the Doctor of the 

VOL. v. M 



church in the time of King Ethclbeit. And then was the archbishop's sec antj 
pall removed from, the aforesaid church of St. Peter, upon Cornhill, unto ' Dcre 
bernaum,* that now is called Canterbury, and there rcmaineth to this day. And 
Millet [Mcllitus], monk, the which came into the land with St. Austin, was made 
the first bishop of London, and his see was made in Paul's church.'* The tablet 
then goes on to inform us how many years after Brule Lucius reigned, 
M.C.C.xlv. (the precision of these old chroniclers is admirable), how long his reign 
lasted— no less than seventy-seven years ; and that he was, according to one chroni 
cle, burled in London, whilst another set him down at Gloucester, " in that place 
where the order of St, Francis standeth now," But this is by no means the entire 
extent of our information as to these very ambitious claims of St. Peter's, Corn- 
hill. Slow also gives us. on the authority of * Jocelinc of Furneis,' the names of 
both the first and second archlMshops, Thcan and Elvanus, as well as of their 
fourteen successors ; and informs us that whilst the first, aided by King Lucius's 
butler, Ciran, erected the church, the second added a library, and " converted 
many of the Druids, learned men in the Pagan law, to Christianity.'* He adds, 
evidently with a lingering belief in the story, "True it is, that a library there 
was pertaining to the parish church of old time builded of stone."* It also ap- 
pears a school was held there from some very early, but unknown, period. Alto- 
gether, the story forms so delightful a piece of antiquarian gossip, that we wish 
it was in our power to assert its undeniable truth. 

Turning to a more general view of our subject, and to matter of a less ro- 
mantic, but more trustworthy nature, it may be observed that the first (in time) 
of our metropolitan topographers, Fitz-Stephen, amongst his notices of the tem 
perateness of the air and the strength of the place, the honour of its citizens, 
and the chastity of its matrons, its schools, its customs, and its sports, docs not. 
of course, exclude a view of the provision of the religious demands of his fa- 
vourite city; and brief and unadorned as is the single sentence with which he 
dismisses the subject, the facts he gives us derive considerable interest as well as 
value from the antiquity of the period referred to. It is something to be able to 
lift off the dark mist that hangs over the London of the middle ages, even though 
it he but to learn that " there are in London and in the suburbs 13 churches 
belonging to convents, besides 126 lesser parish churches.'' And a very striking 
illustration the statement forms of the wealth and zeal of the inhabitants of 
London, as well as of their great numbers during the period in quesliun, and 
makes it probable that there is no error, after all. as to the '^0,000 armed men 
who, according to the same writer (himself probably an eye-witness), went out to 
a muster in the neighbourhood '* in the fatal wars under King Stephen." Nay, 
it should seem, if we may judge of the increase of the population by the increase 
of churches, that that population had been stationary for some centuries after 
Fitz-Stephen'a time, for when Stow wrote, the entire number of churches in and 
about London within four miles' compass was but 139 : the exact number men- 
tioned by Fitz-Sle[ihcn, if wc add the convcntuid to the parish churches, as Stow 
does in his list with regard to all that were still preserved. And thus, no doubt, 
they remained down to 1666, when the great fire destroyed at once S9 of their 


• Stow,ea. l«S3,i>.2ll. 



number, many of them never again to rise from their ruins. Filz-Stcphcn gives 
us no cnumerdiioo of the buildings he mentions, but this is of little importance, 
for Stow docs; and it is tolerably clear that the buildings he refers to are almost 
identical with the buildings mentioned by FitzStcphcn. So that howercr much 
older than the twelfth century may have been the churches of London generally 
that existed before the fire, it is evident that their foundation must be referred 
to at least that early period. Eleven of the thirteen "belonging to convents" 
may bo traced ^vith precision. We find on examination that there were in 
existence m Fitz-Stephen's time, Trinity Priory, Aldgate, founded in 1108 
by good Queen Maud, wife of Henry I., for Regular Canons of the rule of 
St. Augustine, by whoso influence "was the number of those that praised 
God day and night so much increased, that the whole city was much delighted 
with the sight of it ;"* St. Bartholomew's, already fully treated of in our 
pages; Bcrmondsey, the same; St. James Priory, Clcrkenwell, founded for 
Black nuns abuut 1100, near the famous well from which it derived its name; 
the Priory of St. John the Baptist, near another well of still higher repute — 
Holywell, Shoreditch ; St. Katharine's Hospital, founded by Matilda, Stephen's 
queen, of which the building in Regent's Park is the legitimate descendant; 
St. Thomas Aeon, founded in honour of Fitz-Stephcn*s master, Beckett, by the 
ambitious churchman's sister and her husband, within a few years afler his 
murder, and on the site of their father's house, in which Beckett himself was 
bom; St. John of Jerusalem, Clerkenwell, the house of the Hospitallers; and 
the Temple, the house of their rivals; St. Mary Overies, noticed in our first 
volume ; and, lastly, St, Marti n's-le- Grand, which, both from its antiquity and 
its magnificence, Wds appropriately named: it was founded in 700, by a king of 
Kent, Wylhred; rebuilt, and a great increase made to its endowments, about 
1U56, by two noble Saxon brothers; con6rmed in all its rights, privileges, and 
possessions by the Conqueror, who made it not merely independent of his own 
or the kingly jurisdiction, but of the Papal also, and which, among its other 
noticeable features, included within its precincts a sanctuary, that seems to hare 
been the Alsatia of an earlier day. For a certain class of persons, those who had 
occasion to pass to and fro between Newgate and Guildhall on business of a more 
indispensable than agreeable nature, this sanctuary was most conveniently situated, 
wnd the advantages it offered were fully ajipreciated. Thus, in 1439, when a 
soldier for some crime was pursuing the route mentioned, five men rushing out 
■uddcnly from Panycr Alley rescued him, and the whole fled into St. Martin's. 
The Sheriffs in their irritation were incautious enough to follow them into the 
church, seize them, and send them to Newgate ; but the authorities soon compelled 
them to replace the offenders in the sacred building. 

If the great fire of London was calculated to beget in the minds of contempo- 
raries the deepest awe and astonishment at the amount of the mischief consum- 
mated within so small a space, those feelings were not likely to be lessened by 
the peculiar severity of the visitation as it regarded the churches of London. In 
the following list is shown in alphabetical order the churches as they stood in the 
beginping of the seventeenth century, when the central portion of London must 

Blow, p. Ml. 

H t 



have appeared one forest of steeples.* If the reader, after glancing over this list, 
■will then mark how many of them have an asterisk prefixed, he will see those 
which remained: surely no other single feature of the conflagration furnishes us 
with 80 startling a notion of its cficcta as this : — 


Alhant, Wood Stiwt, W. 
*AllhallawR, Barkin;; 

AllbAllowt, BnAilSt.rK 

Allballovi the Great, fV. 

AJIhallows, Honey I^a 

Anballowiihe l^ts 

AUhallowa, Lombturd 
SifMt, /K 
*AllKiilluw!i, Stainiiig 
•Allhallo<ri,LoQdoti Wall 
♦Andrew, Hqlborn, fF, 

Andmr Hubbard 
*Aiidrew Uodetihaft 

Andrew, Wardrobe, W. 

Ann«, Alderfl|[ate, ^. 

Anii«, Blackrnmrg 

Anthulin, Jf. 

Aujuitirte, H^. 
•Bartliolumew Ihe Qr*at 
'Bartholomew the L t« 

Barttiolodicw, EzcliAtige, 


Beiinel Fink, fV. 

Bennet, Omcechmcb 
Str«t, tr. 

Bcnnet.PAul> Whaxf, W, 

Bennct Stierehn^ 
*Boto)ph, Alderfgat* 
'Botolpli, Aldgate 

Botolph, Billingtgato 
'Bototpli, Bisboptgale 

Bride, Flnt Street, W. 
•Bridewell Precinct 

Chti.t CbiircK W. 

Christopher, W. 

•Clement Danei, VV. 

Clement, F^t Cheap W. 

Dionis, Back Church, W. 

Durutan, Rait, W. 
•DuTwtan, Wert 

Edmund, Lombard 
Sfreet, W. 


Gabriel, Feocburcb 

G«orge, Sofithwark 

Qeorge, Botalph Laoe, 
•Giles Cripplegate 

Gile« in ihe Fields 

GHgory, by St. Paul 

•Helen, Bi»bopig*U 

•Jamea, Clorkenwell 
•Jamst, Dalce'sPUc* 

Jaraw, Garlick Hill, W. 

Jotin, Baptiit 

John, Evangelist 

John, ZAchary 
•Katherine Coleman 
•Katherine Cree 
•Katherine, Tower 

Lnwreiicc, Jewry, W. 

LBwrence, Pnullry 

Leonard, Eait Cheap 

Leonard, Putter Laue 
•Leonard, Shoteditcb 

Magtujj, IV. 
Alargaret, Lothhury, W, 
Margaret Moses 
Margaret, New Fiih St. 
Margaret Pal ten*. M'. 
•MartJD in the Fields 
Martin, Ironmonger 

ftlartiii. Ijjdgate. T. 
Martin, Orgar 
•Martin, Outwich 
Martin, Viiitry 
Mary, Abcburch, W. 
Mary, Aldennaabury,/f. 
Mary, Aldermary, W, 
Mary Ic Bow, W. 
Mary Bcthaw 
Mary Colecburcb 
•Mary Magdalen, BeT- 

Mary Magdalen, Milk 

Mary Magdalen, Old 

FUh Street, W. 
Mary at Hill, W. 
Mary Mi>utilhaw 
Mary, Bomenet, W. 
Mary Staining 
•Mary, Whitechapel 
Mary Woolchurcb 
Mary Woolnnth, W. 
Mataiew, Fndfly St., W. 
Micboel, Buiughall 

Street, W. 
Michael, CumhiU, W. 
Michael, Crooked Loue, 

Michael, Queenhithe, W. 

Michael Querat 

Michael Royal, IV. 

Michael, WoodStreet,^; 

Mildr«i,Bread Street, W. 

Mildred, Poultry, W. 

Nicholoj Aron 

Nicbolai, Cole-Abbey, 

Nieholat, Olare 
•Glove, Hart Street 

Olave, Jewry, iV. 

Olavr, Silver Street 
•OliiTe, Soutbwark 

Poncrus, Soper Lane 

Peter, Cheap 

Peier, Cortibill, W. 

Pf ter, PftiiV* Wharf 
•Peter r^ Poor 
'SaTtour, Southwark 

Sepulchre, W. 

Stephen, Coleman St. W. 

Stephen. Wal brook, W. 
* Stepney 
•Stratford Bow & Bromlry 

Swithin, W. 

Thomu Apoitle 
•ThumiU, Southwatk 

Trinity Church 
•Trinity, Hmoriea 

Wiort, Fotter lAn«, W. 
•WectminitcT, St. Marga- 
•Westminiter, St. Pet*r. 


The W affixed to many of the above names show the churches rebuilt by 
Wren ; consequently those without either that mark or the asterisk are the 
buildings that have been entirely lost to us. Among all these it would have been 
difficult to have found one uninteresting structure, whilst many of them were, no 
doubt, exquisite specimens of their respective architectural styles, and they all 
belonged to one long period in the history of Christian architecture, when none 
but beautiful buildings were erected, and the only differences were as to their 
relative degrees of beauty. In their origin, names, customs — in the monuments 
and inscriptions they contained — in their wealth and decorative splendour, one 
might find materials for a pleasant and instructive volume ; thus, to refer to the 
first point only— the name :— there is, to explain how St. Martin, Ironmonger's 
I^ane. came to be called also Pomary, "supposed to be of apples growing where 
now houses are lately builded;"t St. Mary Woolchurch, from the beam placed in 
the churchyard for the weighing of wool; St. Michael at the Quern, corruptly 


* For a pictareaqur genaal view of these buildingi in old timet, tec ' 
vW CloM of the Ftmileeiith Century,' in vol. ir. p. 309, No. LXXXIX. 

Sometbiog about London Chuichcf \ 
t Slow 



from Corne, on accoant of the neighboaring ancient corn-mftrVet by Paternoster 
Bow; Fen Church, from the fenny or mooriBh ground on which it was built, 
through which ran the once sweet and beautiful waters of Langbouro ; St. Bcnnct 
Sherehog — a ludicrous popular misunderstanding of the right appellation : " St. 
Syth/* writes Stow, "hath also an addition of Bcnnet Shornc or Shrog, or 
Shorehog (for by all these names have I read it), but the aocicntest Is Shorne : 
whereof it seemeth to take that name of one Benedict Shorne, some time a citizen 
and stock-fishmonger of London, a new builder, repairer, or benefactor thereof"* 
in the time of Edward 11. : and so on. Many of them, again, were very rich in 
memorials of the dead, from the most magnificent structures that art and muni- 
ficence could raise to their memory, down to the single stone with its "Pray for 

the soul of ;" from the gloomy, and pathetic, and elaborate, and, we roust 

add, frequently fearfully long-winded, inscriptions, down to the humorous or 
fanciful, or simply gay and cheerful ; in some cases so full of the exhibition of 
animal spirits, that one would almost suppose the writer — not to say it irreve- 
rently — thought death only a capital joke. Here is one, the jingle of which we 
cannot get rid of> inscribed in St. Leonard's, Foster Lane, a church built by one 
of the deans of St. Martin's-Ie- Grand, about 1236, for the use of the iahabitantt 
of the sanctuary : — i 

** When the bells be merrily ning I 

And the mass devoutly sung J 

^ And the meate rQerrily eaten. I 

^ Then shall Robert Traps— his wife— and children be forgotten.* ^ 

Passing, as our space compels us to do, with this brief mention, the extinct 
churches, and reserving those rebuilt by Wren for our next paper, let ua now 
once more glance over the list on the preceding page. Of those marked with 
the asterisk, we need not concern ourselves with the more distant, as Greenwich 
on one side or Kensington on another j but as to the remainder, an interesting 
question suggests itself — are any of those which fortunately escaped the fire, or 
were altogether beyond its range, still preserved to ub in their architectural inte- 
grity? in other words, do any of the churches of London before the fire still 
exist essentially as they were ? It is pleasant to find that, though few in number, 
there are such existing ; churches that not only have been spared the fire, but 
the worse fate of architectural degradation that has befallen those which have 
grown too old for any merely-repairing processes. The church of Allhallaws, 
Barking, where the headless bodies of the poet Surrey, Bishops Fisher (More's 
friend) and Laud, were deposited after their respective executions on the neigh- 
bouring Hill, is still preserved to us; so is Allhallows, Staining, where Eli- 
xabctb, on leaving the Tower, by Mary's permission, for a less severe imprison- 
ment in Woodstock, full of thankfulness, hastened to offer up her grateful 
acknowledgments to God ; St. Andrew, Undcrshaft, that altar, as it might almost 
be called, for the worship of the old '* Spring-time in London," and where rest 
the honoured ashes of him whose heart was as open to all the freshness and love- 
liness of the present, as his mind was earnest and sagacious in inquiring into the 
past — (a church we could as ill have spared for Stows sake as for its own); St. 
Xatberine Cree, where Laud displayed those superstitious tendencies which sub* 

• Stow» p. 17«, 



Bcquontly formed one of the cliicf charges against liim ; the curioBs little church 
uf St. Ethclburgh, in Biehopsgatc Street^ bo diminutive that the pettiest houses 
and shops seem, in very contempt of its insignificance, to have half smothered it 
up, pressing it on each sidc^ and crcc{)ing across its front till the door below and 
the lip of its fine window above, with the surmounting turret, arc all that can be 
seen; St. Helen's, close by, in every way the most perfect and interesting of the 
whole ; St. Giles's, Cripplcgatc, rich in many recollections, were they not almoat 
rendered as nothing in contrast with the one — Milton's burial within its walls; 
St. Olave, Hart Street, with its elegant architecture, and remains of antique deco- 
ration on the roof of its aisles ; Lambeth; St. Margaret's, Westminster ; and, still 
more distant, Chelsea, where Sir Thomas More, when Chancellor, sang with the 
boys in the choir, and now lies in that last sleep which, with such a spirit, could 
not but be sweet; Fulham, Putney, &c. If to these arc added the structures 
already described in our pages as St. Mary Ovcries (or St. Saviour's), Bartho- 
lomew the Great (the Less also has remains of the ancient structure), Ely Place, 
and the Savoy — the reader will have a tolerably complete general view of the 
old churches that remain. The Dutch church, Austin Friars, may hero also be 
mentioned. This priory was founded by Humphrey Bohun, Earl of Hereford 
and Essex; the date is shown on the exterior, 1*253. Strikingly handsome as 
this building still is, with its long range of pointed windows of great size on 
each side, its magnificent western front, and its elegantly-clustered columns in 
the interior, both exterior and interior give but a partial view of the original 
splendour of this house of the bare-footed friars ; the one wanting its spire, which 
formed the '* beautifuUcst and rarest spectacle " in London, and the other the 
sumptuous and all but innumerable monuments which formerly adorned it: whilst 
the whole forms but the nave of the perfect structure. For all these deficiencies 
we have to thank my lurd Marquis of Winchester, into the hands of whose 
family the place fell ader the dissolution : the mayor and many other influential 
persons bestirred themselves greatly, in IGOO, to induce his lordship to assist in 
the repair of the steeple, then in a dangerous state, for which they asked only 
501. or 601. from him ; his answer was — first, a refusal, and then the pulling down 
of the steeple and choir, with the sale, for IQOA, of all the rich tombs. We may 
judge of the character of those memorials from the individuals to whom they 
related. There were buried in this church — Edmond, half-brother to Richard II.; 
the founder. Humphrey Bohun ; Richard, the great Earl of Arundel, Surrey 
and Warren, beheaded 1397 ; Vere^ Earl of Oxford, beheaded 146:i ; the lords 
barons slain at Bamct, in 1471, who were interred together in the body of the 
church; "poor Edward Bohun," Duke of Buckingham, beheaded 1521 ; with 
several other noblemen, many knights and Ladies, and a countless number of 
less distinguishable persons. 

Of the churches enumerated in the preceding paragraph, it will be neces- 
sary to notice in detail only the more important. The name of Barking 
church, AUhallows, was evidently a great favourite with our ancestors; our list 
exhibiting no less than eight metropolitan buildings similarly dedicated; a cir- 
cumstance no doubt to be attributed to the great popularity of the holiday of 
AU-hallowmas, which having, it is supposed, its origin in pagan times, seems to 
have been first incorporated into the Christian system by Pope Boniface IV. in 





Ihe Bcvenlh century. The Pope's object in so doing is slated in a passage 
from an old manuscript transcribed by Strult, in his * Horda Angel Cynnan.' to 
be the correction of '* our omissions for many a Saint's day in the year we have 
unserved, for there be so many that we may not serve them all;" but 
Mr. Forster, in his ' Perennial Calendar/ says that " the Church, in this great 
festival, honours all the Saints rising together in glory :" so when a new 
church was lo be dedicated in the earlier ages of Christianity, and the perfections 
of the different apostles, saints, and martyrs were canvassed, whenever there was 
much difficulty of choice, we may easily imagine how All Saints would carry the 
day. What better watchers and warders, too, cither for the living or the dead, 
could be desired ? Some such feeling possibly it was that led Richard I. to found 
a " fair chapel" here, on the north side, apparently with the intention of being ^ 
buried in it; and it is said that his heart was actually interred in the church 
under the high altar. Legend connects another monarch with AUhallows, Barking, 
in an interesting point of view. Edward I-, when Prince of Wales, is said to 
have been admonished in a vision to erect an image to the Virgin, and told at 
the same time, that if he visited the said image five times a year, he should be 
victorious over all nations, and more particularly over those which he most 
yearned to conquer, Scotland and Wales. He did erect one accordingly, as 
^'WcU as further augment the revenues and establishment of the chapel j and the 
Kmage became so famous, that pilgrimages were regularly performed to it, down 
even to the period of the suppression : forty days' indulgence was the reward for 
all such pilgrimages. The chapel continuing still an object of royal solicitude, wo 
find Edward IV. calling it ** the King's/' and empowering his brother John, Earl 
of Worcester, to found a brotherhood in it; whilst Richard III. rebuilt it, and 
founded a regular college of priests there. All these notices indicate great 
antiquity, as well as great interest in the structure in early times ; and the 
•ight of the interior confirms, in some degree, all that the enthusiastic antiquary 
might be apt to imagine from them. The church generally is of the Gothic style 
prevalent in the Tudor era, but there are certain pillars on each side of the nave, 
toward the western extremity, that at once attract the eye by their dissimilarity 
to the remainder : these are low, musslve, round — in a word, Norman. The 
antique inscriptions, monuments, and brasses too, all about us, point far back- 
wards over the stream of time. If from among the latter, where all arc so interest- 
ing, we select one for mention, the best perhaps is the brass plate of John 
Rulche, 1459, who appears in a close fitting gown, with long hair, hands clasped 
upon his breast, a pouch at his girdle, and a rosary on his arm. We have already 
mentioned that the Earl of Surrey, and the Bishops Fisher and Laud, wetc in- 
terred here after their executions, but it was only for a limited period in each 
case. Surrey's remains were removed in 1614 to Framlingliam ; Fisher's, first 
buried in the churchyard here, were taken to the chapel m the Tower, and 
placed by the side of his murdered friend the great Chancellor More; and 
Laud's, whose temporary resting-place was the chancel, were afterwards taken 
down to St. John's College, Oxford. A terrible and, in one respect, curious acci- 
dent injured the church in 1G49 — the explosion of a quantity of gunpowder, which 
at the Barac time destroyed fifty or sixty of the neighbouring houses with thcii 
inhabitants : one of these was an alehouse full of people at the time. The first 



person who ascended the steeple afterwards was not a little surprised at what he 
saw there — a female infant in a cradle, unhurt. The parents could not bo traced, 
and in consequence some good Samaritan stepped forward and brought her up 
as his own. To the repair of the injuries done on this occasion was added the 
erection of a new and ugly briek steeple. 

That the majority of the earliest churches built in London were of wood seems 
sufficiently probable, if we consider merely the length of time that structures of 
greater pretension must have required for their erection, and how unwilling the 
enthusiastic builders must frequently have been to wait any longer than was 
absolutely necessary for a temple in which to worship ; and the name of Allhal- 
lows Staining points no doubt to some such state of things. Stane is the Saxon 
word for stone, and was most probably applied to this church to distinguish it 
from the others of the same name of wood ; and if the view be a correct one, the 
choice of the word shows how uncommon was the use of the more durable material 
at the time. Looking at the modem front of this church in Marii Lane, a model 
of plain deformity, one would never suspect there was aught behind it worth a 
single glance; but if we step through the little court close by, the eye at once 
rests upon a tower of unmsstakeable antiquity. Sad reverses that tower has 
known! The body to which it belonged fell in 1671, and was replaced by the 
structure, of which the front already mentioned is a worthy representative ; and, 
as if that was not enough degradation for a venerable steeple which could possibly 
date its birth from the days of the third Henry, they have actually thrust 
one of those abominable round-headed windows into its walls. But it has had 
its consolations too. If tradition speak truly, it was the merry peal of its bells 
pouring forth their congratulations to the parish on the release of Elizabeth from 
the Tower, that attracted the Princess herself hither, as the most agreeable place 
in which to perform her devotions. Whether it was that the parish had not pre- 
viously coquetted much with princesses, or that Elizabeth had in truth won their 
entire hearts and souls, who shall say ? but certain it is that in ' The King's 
Head ' tavern adjoining, certain dishes of pork and peas appear once a-year in 
commemoration of the visit, Elizabeth having regaled herself on the occasion with 
Buch delicacies from this very house : witness those dark-looking vessels that hang 
np over the fire-place in the coffee-room, the dish and cover used by her, with 
an inscription between, detailing the circumstances, from Hughson's ' London,' 
and a print above of the Princess from a painting by Holbein, where the future 
Virgin-Queen appears in all the pride of high shoes, square waist, and out- 
swelling petticoats. But apart from personal considerations, Elizabeth could hardly 
have come to a more beautiful or more interesting, or, therefore, a more suitalile 
place. The entries of the churchwardens in their parish books, dry and succinct 
as they are, conjure up many a vision of surpassing ecclesiastical splendour which 
we should else little dream of attributing to the apparently insignificant-looking 
church of AUhallows Staining — this thing of yesterday, as its aspect seems to 
speak it. We read of a high altar dedicated to AUhallows, with " carved taber- 
nacle " work, and drapery of rod Bruges satin, bearing a representation of the 
Ascension ; of a silver gilt cross on the high-altar, with small statues at its base 
of tne Virgin Mary and St. John ; and another (very large probably) of wood, 
plated with silver and gilt, having silver figures of our Saviour, the Virgin, and 




St. John, the five wounds of the first marked by as many precious stones (ru- 
bies perhaps), and having at its base a piece of inserted crystal covering, but not 
concealing, the word JESUS. We read of three other altars similarly decorated; 
of a statue of St. Kalherine. with a lamp constantly burning before it ; of a 
rood-loft, with a great crucifix, and tweuty-two ta])erfi of extraordinary size 
burning about it. Then, to people the scene, come the priests in their robes of 
red damask with leaves of gold, red velvet embroidered with golden roses, white, 
g^een, and crimson satin, with their cross-banners lifted high, their streamers, 
their incense, their choral songs ; and lastly, shutting iu the whole picture, the 
kneeling, devout, adoring crowds of worshippers. Then the festivals : where, 
it may be asked with allowable parochial pride, were these observed with greater 
regularity and zeal than at AUhallows Staining, though its reputation in this 
matter be now dwindled away into a line in the register? The simplest statement 
of some facts, however, produces eloquence ; and so it is with this passage, reviving 
all the jovial hilarity of the ecclesiastical Saturnalia, the rule of the boy-bishop : 
" Paid unto Goodman Chese, broiderer, for making a new mitre for the bishop 
ayenst St. Nicholas* night, 2s. Sd. ;** and this, referring to another and scarcely 
lew popular festival, ** Paid for the hiring of a pair of wings and a crest for au 
angel on Palm Sunday, 8rf.,'* when the entry of Jesus into Jerusalem was dra- 
matised, though by no irreverent artist, nor before an irreverent auditory; and 
when AUhallows, like many other churches, would present some such spectacle as 
that here shown. The parish books so frequently referred to show two noticeable 

[rMicp»Mvii ul llir Wmli^ Am >id V*im 8uB«Uj.l 



Bignaturcs —Sir Cloudesley Shovel's, in connexion with his own marriage; ana 
Ircton's, as the alderman and justice of the peace, who married certain parties in 
pursuance of the Marriage Act of the time, which made the ceremony a civil, in- 
stead of a religious contract, as before, and which, subsequently annulled, has 
been again and in all probability permanently revived of late years. 

The objects of our inquiry now grow thick around us : here we sec the low 
but elegant Gothic exterior of St. Olave's. in Hart Street, there the more imposing 
range of pointed windows belonging to St. Kalherine Crce, in Lcadenhall Street, 
and scarcely a atone's-throw distant, the modem and beautiful tower of St. An- 
drew Undershaft, looking so light and so lofty thai one could almost fancy the 
architect had the idea of the famous May-pole floating in his mind as he designed 
it The interior of St. Andrew's forms a very interesting specimen of the Tudor 
architecture of the fifteenth century ; and is rich in large fresco paintings of the 
Apostles, in its stained glass, with portraits of Edward VI. and succeeding mo- 
narchs down to Charles II.. in its monuments, its noble organ, and ita painted and 
gilded roof But one thinks little of these things on the spot, for there in the 
north-east corner is Stow's monument. Poor Stow I the fate that followed him 
in life deserted not his remains in death ; the story of the removal of his bonca 
from his own monument to make room for some wealthier new-comer, forms the 
appropriate pendant to that of his begging his bread in his eightieth year, — is 
equally disgraceful and equally true : it ocrurred, states Maitland, in 173*2. The 
history of St. Kalherine Cree's— the latter word being a corruption for Christ's 
— church, like many others of the metropolis, impresses upon the mind the date- 
less antiquity of its foundation ; the original edifice was pulled down about 1107, 
with three other churches, to make way for the great convent of Trinity, and the 
church of the latter, under the appellation of Christ's, having been made paro- 
chial, was devoted to the use of the four united parishes. The body of this 
church having become, it is said, old and crazy, was pulled down and rebuilt in 
16'28; if so, there must have been a very praiseworthy determination on the part 
of the architect to follow in some degree the style of the preceding building or of 
some of the neighbouring churches; but it was probably only an extensive repair 
of the exterior that took place at the times mentioned, for the interior exhibits 
proofs that there was no such self-denial in the artist's thoughts: hero Gothic 
and Corinthian jostle in strange, but certainly picturesque confusion. It is said 
that Inigo Jones was the author of the repair or rebuilding in 1628. We hope 
he is not answerable for walling up the magnificent western window, the tracery 
of which is just visible at the top. That it was magnificent any one may easily 
assure himself by stepping up the narrow alley in Lcadenhall Street, at the 
eastern extremity of the building, and gazing, as well as the place will permit, 
upon the correspondent work that there lies before him. Within, among other 
noticeable dead, we are reminded of Sir Nicholas Throckmorton, the gallant 
spirit who so baflled the hunters in Guildhall, by the sight of his canopied c^gy, 
and we remember without such aid that in all probability somewhere beneath our 
feet, or in the adjoining churchyard, lies all that remains of Hans Holbein. In 
the beautiful monument to Samuel Thorpe, 1791, by Bacon, St. Kalherine Cree 
possesses another claim to the attention of the lovers of art. It was after the re- 
pair or rebuilding of 1626, that the consecration took place by Laud, who having 



taosed all necessary preparations to be made for the extraordinary scene he 
meditated, appeared before the church on the 16th of January, 1630-1. At his 
approach persons stationed near the door called out in a loud voice, '• Open, open, 
ye everlasting doors, that the King of Glory may enter in.*' The archbishop 
then entered, and, falling upon his Itnees in the church and extending his arras, 
exclaimed " This place is holy, the ground is holy ; in the name of the Father, 
Son, and Holy Ghost, I pronounce it holy." Rising, he went towards the Chancel, 
throwing dust from the floor into the air on his way, bowed, went in procession 
round the church, repeated two psalms and a prayer. He then cursed all who 
should profane the place, bowing at the close of every sentence, and blessed all 
I who had advanced the erection. What took place after the sermon is best 
described in the words of Prynne, every sentence of whose pungent and humorous 
satire must have cut deep, and given earnest of the coming retribution for the 
bold Puritan s cropped ears and slit nose. He says, " When the bishop ap- 
proached near the communion-table, he bowed with his nose very near the ground 
some six or seven times ; then he came to one of the corners of the table and 
there bowed himself three times ; then to the second, third, and fourth comers, 
bowing at each comer three limes; but when he came to the side of the table 
where the bread and wine was, he bowed himself seven times ; and then, after the 
reading of many prayers by himself and his two fat chaplains (which were with 
him, and all this while were upon their knees by him, in their surplices, hoods, 
and tippets), he himself came near the bread, which was cut and laid in a fine 
napkin, and then he gently lifted up one of the corners of the said napkin, and 
peeping into it till he saw the bread (like a boy that peeped into a bird's-nest 
in a bush), and presently clapped it down again and flew back a step or two, and 
then bowed very low three times towards it and the table. When he beheld the 
bread, then he came near and opened the napkin again, and bowed as before ; 
then he laid his hand upon the gilt cup, which was full of wine, with a cover 
upon it ; so soon as he had pulled the cup a little nearer to him, he let the cup 
go, (lew back, and bowed again three times towards it; then he came near again, 
and, lifting up the cover of the cup, peeped into it ; and seeing the wine, he 
let fall the cover on it again, and flew nimbly back and bowed as before. After 
these and many other apish, antick gestures, he himself received and then gave 
the sacrament to some principal men only, they devoutly kneeling near the 
tabic; after which, more prayers being said, this scene and interlude ended." 
When Prynne applied the epithet interlude to these ceremonies, he was no 
donbt aware that it derived fresh force from the associations of the place; the 
churchyard of St. Katherinc Crce seems to have been a popular place for 
the exhibition of dramatic interludes properly so called. Among entries of 
a similar nature in the parish books we read, under the date 1565, "Re- 
ceived of Hugh Grymes, for licence given to certain players to play their 
interludes in the churchyard, from the feast of Easter, An. D'ni. 1565, 
until the feast of Saint Michael the Archangel, next coming, every holy- 
day, to the use of the pariah, the sum of 27«. Sd.'* Scaffolds, it appears, 
were erected all round the churchyard. Performances took place on Sun- 
days, but in connection with this point, and the sacred character of the 
pUcc, it is to be observed that the pieces performed would be of a religious 



character, though with a plentiful admixture of the ordinary Jesta and practical 
fun. Of the three churches pulled down with St. Katherine's on the erection of 
Trinity Priory, we have probably a remnant of one of them — St Michael's, in 
the beautiful crypt that still exists beneath a house near the pump at Aldgatc, a 
most curious and interesting piece of antiquity. 

Let U8 now turn into Bishopagate Street, and from thence into the area at the 
back of Crosby Place, where a path runs between the fine young trees just 
putting forth their delicately green foliage, and through the centre of the bright 
level sward of the churchyard of St. Helen's to the church. The remarkable 
aspect of the exterior must strike every one. The ends of two naves or bodies of 
separate churches placed side by side, with a little turret at the intersection 
above, is the idea at once impressed. The interior shows us that this is no fan- 
ciful notion ; the double church being there still more evident, although intimately 
connected together. An irregular, but far from unpleasing or unpicturesque 
effect is thus produced. One set of lofly pointed arches differs from another, 
ranges of windows extend along walls for a certain distance, and then unaccount- 
ably stop ; the long aisle — as the northernmost of the two churches appears to 
be — on one side, is balanced by a chancel occupying merely the eastern extre- 
mity of the other; the two great eastern windows extending aide by side from 
the floor to the roof are not alike, yet is neither subordinate to the other; but 
every individual form is beautiful, and constructed of the same elements ; and it 


InUriorofSl lUtra't.l 




» nirprisin^ the hannony that may Le thus produced even where the artiatical 
l*w« of combination arc violated. An air of indescribable antiquity, too, pre- 
vailing over and through all, tends powerfully to Uie same effect. In the part 
ihat now appears as an aisle, a long row of carved seats against the wall catches 
the eye, and the inquiry into their use explains the peculiar architectural exhi- 
bition around us. Helena, the mother of Constantine the Great, and discoverer, 
in her own belief, of the very cross on which Christ was crucified and the very 
sepulchre where he was entombed, and who built on the spot a church, was of 
course canonized, and enjoyed all the honour* pertaining, all the Christian world 
over, to that state of beatitude. Here there was a church dedicated to her from 
a very remote period, of which the nave of the present building is the descendant. 
About 1212 William Fitzwilliam, a goldsmith, founded on the same locality a 
priory of Benedictine nuns, and probably built a church for them, against that 
of St. Helen's; when the latter came into the possession of the nuns, which it 
did at no very distant period, it may have been thought desirable to lengthen 
the nuns' church to range with that of St. Helen's (hence the blank wall in 
the north-cast comer, on which are the Bonds* and other monuments), and to 
throw them open to each other, or divided at least merely by the screen 
between the intercolumniations, which we know to have existed here until the 
ficfurmation. The seats we have alluded to were those used by the nuns. 
Among the monuments of St. Helen's which most imperatively demand notice, 
we may 6r8t mention the oldest and moat valuable — Sir John Crosby and his 
lady's, an exquisite specimen of the sculpture of the fifteenth century, exhibiting 
their effigies side by side, on a table monument; the costume is remarkable, 
particularly the head-dresses, and in all its details carefully defined. On one 
■idc near him, beneath an ambitious- looking Elizabethan canopy with double 
arches, lies Sir W. Pickering, one of the courtiers of the virgin queen, who is 
■aid to have aspired to a share of her throne, and who could plead as a justifica- 
tion of his hopes the possession of qualifications which make Strype call him 
the £ncst gentleman of the age in learning, arts, and warfare. Still farther, on 
the same side, directly before the great window of the nuns' church, and with the 
coloured rays from his own arms in the said window falling upon his tomb, lies 
Sir Thomas Gresham ; that tomb, as becomes the eminent man whose remains 
It guards, is simplicity itself — a very large square slab, raised table high, bearing 
his sculptured arms, but no adornments, no inscription. Of the tablets and 
other memorials on the wall beyond Gresham's monument, the most remarkable 
are those to Sir William Bond, a distinguished merchant adventurer, who died 
in 1576, and his son's, Martin Bond, one of Klizabcth's captains at Tilbury. A 
■till more interesting feature of this wall is the beautiful niche, with a row of 
open arches below, through which the nuns, according to Malcolm, heard mas^ 
on particular occasions (during punishment?) from the crypt below. By the 
way. the nuns of St. Helen's seem to have been somewhat wild and unruly, if we 
may judge from the complaints made by Kentwode, Dean of St. Paul s, who 
risited them in 1439. He makes many suspicious remarks about the employing 
of some " sad woman and discreet " to shut cloister doors, and keep keys, about 
rot using nor haunting " any place within the priory [the precincts of which were 
extensive], tlirough the which evil suspicion or slander might arise/' about for- 



bearing to dance and revel except at Christmas, " and other honest times oFrecro- 
ation," and so on.* At the other end of the nuns' church, an immense square 
mass of masonry, with urns rising at intervals, marks the place of interment of 
one Richard Bancroft, fo indcr of the almshouses at Mile End, and who is 
understood to have exhibited this generosity in his last days as an atonement for 
conduct of a very different nature previously. His monument, we need hardly 
state, was a provision of his own, and from it yearly, for some time, his body was 
taken out (for which conveniences had been made), on the occasion of the preach- 
ing of the commeraoi-atton sermon (also founded by himself), and exhibited to 
the almsmen. Returning to the eastern part of the church, wc find in the 
chancel, that occupies the south-cast corner, the remarkable monument of Sir 
Julius Ctesar, Master of the Rolls, who died in 16"^6. It is a beautiful table- 
tomb, the workmanship of Nicholas Stone, who received for it one hundred 
guineas, and on the top exhibits a piece of black marble in the form of a parch- 
ment deed, inscribed with writing, and having a dependent seal. On reading the 
inscription we find it is truly in form a legal document, applied to an odd pur- 
pose: Sir Julius Caesar gives his bond to Heaven to resign his life whenever it 
shall please God to call him, and the wliulc is duly signed and sealed. 

Of the three remaining churches, St. Giles Cripplegute, Lambeth, and St. 
Margaret's Westminster, that alone our space will allow us to mention, wc can 
speak but briefly. St. Giles was built by Alfune, the man who rendered Rahere 
such efficient assistance in the erection of St. Bartholomew's Priory. Smithfield, 
and derives the concluding part of its designation from the gate in the great wall, 
near which it was erected (one of the finest remaining pieces of that wall is still 
preserved in the churchyard), and which was called the cripple gate, from the 
number of deformed persons who haunted it to beg. The church was partially 
burnt in the sixteenth century, but a single glance at the tower and exterior 
walls shows how much remains of a date anterior to that event. Here rest, in 
addition to Milton and his father. Fox the martyrologist. Speed the historian, 
and " Sir Martyn Furbisber, Knt.," who is generally, but incorrectly, said to have 
been buried at Plymouth, where he was brought after receiving his death-wound 
in the assault on Croyzon, near Brest. His name is entered as wc have tran- 
scribed it (from Malcolm) under the date 1594 — 5 Jan. 14, Numerous other 
interesting rccuUcctioDs of St. Giles might be mentioned ; we must confine our- 
selves to two : here, on the 22nd of August, 1620, were married Oliver Cromwell 
and Elizabeth Bouchicr; and in connexion with CromwcUs friend aud secretary 
the great poet before mentioned, wc cannot but fuel interested in observing in 
the parish registers the frequent mention of the names of Brackley, Egerton, 
and Bridgewater, dear to the lovers of Milton and ' Cumus;' the family of Bridge- 
ivatcr having had a house in the immediate neighbourhood. 

The present Lambeth Church is of the period of Edward IV. From its 
connexion with the palace adjoining, several of the archbishops have teen in- 
terred in it, including Bancroft, Tenison, Hutton. and Seeker. Bishops Thirlby 
and Tunstal also repose within its waits. A military-looking memorial to Robert 
Scot records the services of one of Gustavus Adolphus's English followers, and 

^L * See Dugilalc'i ' Uoiiosticoii,' ud Malcolm, vol. ui. p. 548. 






the ini'cntor of leathern artillery, which he used with jp-cat effect in the scrvico 
of the Swedish monarch. In one of the windows is a painted figure of a man 
(said to be a pedlar) and a dog-; according to tradition, the piece of land known 
as Pedlar's Acre was ^Hven to the parish by the individual here commemorated. 
The churchyard has a monument to the Tradescants, famous antiquaries during 
the reigns of the Charleses, who lived at Lambeth, and formed there the first 
Museum of Curiosities of which we have any record in England. Their garden 
also was very valuable fur the amazing number and variety of plants they hnd 
collected in it. from all parts of the world. 

The erection of St. Margaret's, Westminster, was owing to the desire of the 
Confessor to relieve the monks of the Abbey that he hud so magnificently re- 
built from the inconveniences attending its use as a parish church : hence that 
proximity to the grander structure, which would hardly have been permitted 
under any other circumstances, and which almost makes it seem a part ot it, viewed 
bat from a short distance. St. Margaret's has been twice rebuilt ; — in the reign 
of Edward I. by the princely-minded merchants of the Staple, and again in that 
of Edward IV. ; from which period we may justly date the present .structure, 
in spite of the extensive repairs that have taken place in 1735 and in 1803. 
Here lies the illustrious Printer, of whom we read in the parish registers ■ 
" 1478. Item, the day of burying William Caxlun, for ii. torches and iiii. tapers 
at a low mass;" and a similar entry, under the year 1491, shows the fitting 
honours that were paid to his memory : a handsome tablet has been placed 
in the church of late years by the Roxburgh Club. Here also was buried 
Skelton, the satirical poet of Henry VIII. 'a reign, who was fain to lake and to 
keep the Abbey sanctuary, out of Cardinal Wolsey's way ; Lord Howard of 
Effingham, EliiEabeth's gallant Lord High Admiral, who had the chief defence 
of the kingdom intrusted to his charge, at the period of the Spanish 
Armada, and to whose and to his lady's memory there is here a sumptuous 
monnment, with their effigies ; Sir Walter Baleigh, brought hither after 
bis execution in the neighbouring Palace Yard ; that " great man," as 
Malcolm twice calls him. Sir Philip Warwick, who, if our readers remember 
him at all, will most probably recollect him merely as giving an interesting 
description of Cromwell's ap|>earance in the House of Commons, as a young 
member ; and, lastly, Milton's wife, Catherine, buried here, Feb. 10, 1657, the 
" late espoused saint " of his pathetic and beautiful 23rd sonnet. The church, 
OS the place of assemblage for the Members of the House of Commons during 
the sittings of Parliament, is kept in excellent order, and exhibits many inte- 
resting features. The architecture, where ancient, is beautiful; and more par- 
ticularly the altar recess, with its lofty groined roof, its panelled niches, and 
fresco designs. But the painted eastern window is the grand attraction of St. 
Margaret's. This represents the whole history of the Crucifixion in what is 
considered the roost masterly style of the art, and the effect is truly gorgeous. 
The history of this window is worthy of commemoration. It was made by the 
orders of the magistrates of Dort, in Holland, as a suitable present tu Henry VII., 
for the chapel erected by him in the Abbey ; hence the figure of that monarch ^1 
his devotions, and the red and white roses introduced into the ])icture. Henry 
however, dying before it was completed, the window fell into the hands of thr 


Abbot of Waltham, who Icept it In his churdt till Ihe diaaolttion. Then began 
a series of hairbreadth escapes, through which it is wonderful the work should 
have reached its present home. The last Abbot of M'"aUham sared it from de- 
■traction by sending it to New Hall, a scat of the Butlers, in Wiltshire; from 
whence it was purchased, with ihe scat, by Thomas Villiers. Duke of Buckingham, 
whose son sold them to General Monk. The war against all such superstitious 
exhibitions of artistical skill was now raging hotly, and Monk knew there was no 
chance of his window escaping, except by its strict concealment; accordingly he 
buried it. At the Restoration, it was restored to the chapel at New Hall. Again 
danger threatened it : the chapel was destroyed by a new possessor, who, how- 
ever, hoping to sell the window to some church, preserved it, cased up, and afler 
some time sold it to Mr. Conycrs, for hia chapel at Epping; by this gentleman's 
son it was finally sold, in the last century, to the committee for repairing ani 
beautifying St. Margaret's. Had ever window before so moving a biAtory? 


I tAM Wi'iilotr ot Si. MariaWi ' hurcb, WHtniliut«T.] 

(SLJmra, Waatmiiiilcf.J 


No. 11. — Wren's Cbubchks. 

Interesting as many of the buildings tliat fall within the scope of the present 
article individually are, from their intrinsic merits, and the variety of historical 
and biographical recollections— to say nothing of less important matters — that 
belong to them, it is as a whole that wc should first look at them, if we would do 
justice either to them, to their architect, or to those whose conduct deserves more 
admiration than it has received, the architect's employers. We must especially 
recall to mind the position of the citizens of London^ if we would rightly under- 
stand or appreciate the noble qualities, of which the churches of London arc the 
enduring memorials. Every stone marks a difficulty conquered — a sacrifice made 
OQ the part of those incapacitated in no ordinary degree for the making of sacri- 
fices — an active exhibition of heroic hope> where men might have been not alto- 
gether without excuse, for a long period, of something much more nearly ap- 
proximating in its characteristics to despair. Wc must remember — to review for 
a moment the successive stages of the great event in question — that " that which 
made the ruin the more dismal was, that it was begun on the Lord's Day morning ; 

VOL. V. M 



never was there the IPke Sabbath in London ; some churches were in flames that 
day ; and God seems to come down, and to preadi himseif in ifitm, ax He did 
in Mount Sinai, \then the Mount burned trith fire. Such warm preaching those 
churches never had ; such lightning-dreadful sermons never were before deli- 
vered in London. In other churches ministers were preaching their farewell 
sermons, and people were bearing with quaking and astonishment."* We must 
remember the result : — ^twelve churches only saved out of the ninety-seven 
standing within the walls. We must behold the miserable inhabitants — all 
miserable! — rich and poor, young and old, weak and strong, reduced for the 
moment to one common level — in ihuir bivouacs in the surrounding fields and 
open country, where for months great numbers had to remain. We must above 
all weigh the utter ruin that many must have been plunged into by their losses. 
the diffiruUics requiring years of exertion and privation to overcome experienced 
by still more, the necessity for the husbanding of every penny of money, every 
thought and energy of the mind, on the part of all, to re-instate themselves in 
their former position. Houses the houseless could not but build, the commercial 
capital of the world could not from motives of the most evident self-interest remain 
lung without its halts and warehouses, both piety and the habits of piety would 
naturally impel men to obtain some fresh places of worship ; but when we find 
what an architect they did employ for their churches, what sums of money they 
did expend upon them, and how numerous were the buildings they did erect, 
it is impossible to repress a warm feeling of admiration at the conduct of our 
civic forefathers, or to resist the whispers of national pride that explain and con- 
centrate the whole in one a]]propriate word (and never may that word lose ita 
magic !) as the conduct of — Englishmen. These things, to our minds, are the best 
parts of the history of our metropolitan churches. 

Of course, impossibilities were not attempted ; and such would have been the 
erection of these buildings immediately after the fire. They were content, no 
doubt, at first, to worship God beneath his own beautiful sky, that temple not 
made with hands, and then, as conveniences and time presented, beneath places 
of temporary shelter ; it is also to be remembered that the few existing churches 
would give accommodation to the greatest possible number of the members of 
those which had been destroyed : and thus we may presume to have passed the 
first two or three years. The general character and direction of the earliest 
movement towards the erection of the present structures are not unhappily illus- 
trated by the case of Allhatlows, Lombard Street, as that case is shown to us by 
notices written at the time in the parish register. On the 15th of February, 1669, 
the parishioners resolved they " should congregate and meet together about the 
worship of God " in their own parish, and accordingly deputed persons to select 
a place, and build thereon a temporary structure. They next directed that the 
steeple should be viewed, to see whether it could be strengthened and supported ; 
on the 2l8t of the same month they ordered the walls of the body of the building 
to be coped with straw and lime, to preserve them from further damage. A 
lingering hope is here perceptible that the church might be repaired rather than 
rebuilt; but after the lapse of another year or so, when we may suppose the 



• R*7. T. ViDc«ni— • Oodi Terilbli Adrica to tin City by Plkgue wd Kre.' 


general business of London to have regained much of its usual regularity, they 
dismissed the idea as imjtracticable, or as unworthy, and agreed not ohly that 
the church should he rebuilt, hut. in December, 1670, that *' young and old '* 
would join heart and hand in expediting the work. The means at the disposal 
of the parishioners in this, as well as in the other parishes, were various, but 
chiefly a portion of the duty on coals, set apart by the parliament for the re 
building of London and the churches, an assessment on the inhabitants, and 
voluntary subscriptions ; the whole, however, in a great number of cases, insuf- 
ficient, as we may well suppose^ to admit of any rapid progress ; and hence con- 
tinual difficulties. At Allhallows they were so greatly at a loss at one period, 
that they endeavoured to raise 500/. upon tht'ir lands, but Sergeant Pemberton 
advised them that it could not be done without a decree of Chancery. From this i 
position they were relieved apparently by the usual process, increased exertionji 
on the part of benevolent individuals, for we find John Marsh, in 1693, lending 
them the exact sum stated. The year after 500/. was also raised by a parochial 
assessment. These notices are imperfect, but show sufficiently the general history 
of the rebuilding of Allhallows, which is but an epitome of the rebuilding of 
most of the other London churches. 

In the foregoing passages we must also look for no unimportant part of the 
materials from which we are to estimate the architect's greatness. Without 
dwelling upon the multitude of Wren's avocations at this time — the cathedrals, 
palaces, government offices, hospitals, civic halls, colleges. Sec. &c., he was erect- 
ing or repairing, and which make it wonderful that he could have contrived to 
give us so many beautiful churches in the City, rather than depreciatory of hifl 
fame, that he should also ha\'e added some that are very insignificant — passing by 
this consideration, which Wren barely needs, there is another, which it would 
be unjust to his memory not to lay some stress upon, the pecuniary difficulties 
above referred to, which must have hampered him at every step of his labours. 
and often have materially affected the design itself, which it was the object of 
those labours to carry into effect. In criticising therefore his works, it is some- 
times more germane to the matter to speak of the design that the parochial 
purse approved of, rather than of his ; to lament the absence of appropriate deco- 
ration there, rather than in his buildings. The church of St. Mary Aldermary 
offers a striking example of the importance of these pecuniary influences. Would 
you learn how it was that this building became erected on the expensive model 
of the former one, with its nave, and aisles, and clustered pillars, and surprisingly 
rich fan-groinirgs. not merely decorating but covering the ceilings, Malcolm will 
tell us that " Henry Rogers, Esq., influenced by sincere motives of piety, and 
affected with the almost irreparable loss of religious buildings, left the sum of 
5t)00/. to rebuild a church in the city of London. His lady, who was executrix of 
the will, determined that St Mary's should be that church." Then, again, 
churchwardens of that day, as of this, held their opinions with a pertinacity at 
least equal to their information, and, we may be sure, often plagued and oc- 
casionally thwarted the architect. To refer, for instance, again to Allhallows, we 
read in their parish books of Wren sending about a xpire, but the parish, or its 
officers, seem to have preferred a tower — lio a tower it is. Communications of a 
more agreeable nature, be it observed, occasionallv paused, such for instance as 




that referred to in the books of St. Clement's East Cheap, under the date of 
1685. " To one-third of a hogshead of wine, given to Sir Christopher Wren, 
4/. 2s. Od.;" and that in the books of St. Mary Aldermanbury. 1673, April 10 — 
" Having considered the kindness of Sir Christopher Wren and Mr. Rubcrt 
Hooke (chief mason) in expediting the building of the church; and that they 
may be encouraged to assist in perfecting that work, it is novr ordered that the 
parish, by the churchwardens, do present Sir C. Wren with 20 guineas, and 
Mr. R. Hooke with 10." 

It was under the disadvantages referred to that Wren erected the structures 
which, as a whole, form the greatest monuments of his genius; for in them he 
appears as emphatically the inventor of a style of ecclesiastical architecture 
adapted to the wants of a Protestant community, to whose minds the older and, 
we may own, more beautiful Roman Catholic buildings were distasteful, from 
their connection with the faith from which they had only emancipated themselves 
after a long and bloody struggle. Of the exteriors of Wren's churches we have 
little to say, the print-ipal spires and towers having been so completely shown by 
the design given in our first volume, in the ' Building of St. Paul's ;* and, beyond 
the spires and towers, there being so little demanding observation. The con- 
fined and frequently obscure position of the buildings rendered it impossible that 
fine architectural exteriors could be adequately enjoyed, so the architect declined 
giving them, but, instead, concentrated his energies and skill in the parts ex- 
posed to observation, by their height, as in the campanuli, and in the interiors. 
Two external peculiarities, however, must not be overlooked^the original and 
picturesque manner in which he has applied ornamented details from the Italian 
to the forms of the Gothic, and the grace with which he has placed his spires on 
the supporting lowers As to his interiors, perhaps variety of plan is the most 
striking characteristic. Looking over the entire number of churches (fifty-three) 
erected by Wren in the metropolis,* we perceive they may be divided into three 
classes — the Domed ; the Basilical (that is with nave and side-aisles divided by 
pillars from each other) ; and the Miscellaneous, consisting of some with single 
rectangular ]ilane without columns, mere rooms, in short, apart from their deco- 
rations; — some with a single aisle, formed to conceal the intrusions of the lower 
part of the tower on that side of the church ; — and some with pillars, disposed 
within the rectangular area, to give it the appearance of a cross. The churches 
of each of these classes arc generally in the Roman style, but with some notice- 
able exceptions — as St. Mary, Aldermary, and St. Alban's. Wood-street, both 
of which belong to the Gothic— the Utter, says Wren, " as the same was before 
the fire." We may here be permitted to pause a moment over one recoUection 
of the old church of Mary Aldermary (that is Mary the rider of the churches so 
dedicated in London) ; Stow says that " Richard Chawcer, vintner, gave to that 
church his tenement and tavern, with the appurtenances in the Royal Street, the 
comer of Kirion Lane, and was there buried. 1 348." He adds an explanatory mar- 
ginal note, that this Richard was " father to Geoffrey Chaucer the poet, as may be 
supposed;" and wo think with i^Te&i probability, if it be remembered with what 
affection the latter always speako of the City, and how closely he was connected 

* That ii, m«1udmg hro nof tiumt in tbe Sr^ ai SL Andrew'*, Holbom, and St CLmKut Diuiai, uhI one new 
cbiirch, St. JaittM, Wt«tmiTwt<r. 






with its various broils in the reign of Richard II. In this very tavern, then, 
with its heterogeneous assemblage of people of almost every rank and pursuit, 
such as a tavern of the middle a«;:e8 only could draw together, and attended by a 
thousand interesting circumstances of manner and costume equally peculiar to 
the time, may the young poet have acquired some of the materials for his great 
poem, pcrhajK even the first idea of the poem itself. 

Reversing the order of the three classes enumerated we will now first refer to 
the misrelianeous ; in one division of which, the churches with simifle rcctan«^ular 
plans, with more or less regularity of outline, may be enumerated St. Lawrence, 
Jewry, and Allhallows. Lombard Street; in another, consisting of churches with 
pillars introduced into the area to give the effect of a cross, St Martin's, 
Ludgate, and St. Anne and Agnes, Aldersgate Street ; and a third, the churches 
with a tower introduced into one corner, and a continuous aisle to conceal the 
awkwardness that would otherwise be a]iparent, St. Margaret Patten's, and St. 
Bcnnct, Paul's Wharf Greatly do the churches of this class vary in the extent 
and beauty of their decoration, from St Matthew's, Friday Street, at the lower end 
of the scale up to St. Lawrence, Jewry, at the higher, which, with all its simplicity 
of design, is one of the handsomest of Wrens structures ; the chaste elegance uf the 
exterior and the noble style of decoration adopted in the interior are equally 
worthy of admiration. There is a vestry attached to it scarcely less beautil'ul, 
where the painted compartment of the richly stuccoed ceiling represents the 
a|K)lheo8is of St. Lawrence. Among the monuments is one to Tillotson. some of 
whose best sermons were delivered here. The affixed name "Jewry" is. of course, 
derived from the Jews, who resided in the neighbourhood from the period of tho 
Conqueror's coming to England, who brought many of their nation with him from 
Normandy ; a locality, which in effect, through the operation of a law which pre- 
vented them from burying their dead anywhere but in the plot of ground known 
as the Jew's Garden, now Jewin Street, must have been their only place of resi- 
dence in this country till the reign of Henry II. They then, after petitioning 
parliament, obtained permission to purchase ground for a cemetery outside the 
walls of any place in which they dwelt. They were expelled en muv#e by Edward 
I., who graciously allowed them to carry away enough to bear their travelling 
charges, but kept their treasure, to an immense amount, in his own hands. It 
mav he doubted whether this was so politic a mode of treatment in the long run 
as his father's ; at all events it must have been very convenient to a sovereign 
to have always at command such a mode of paying his debts as that referred to 
in the following regal proclamation — one of the richest things of the kind in his- 
tory : "To all persons the King sendeth greeting : Know all men that we have 
borrowed 5000 marks sterling of our trusty and well beloved brother, Richard, 
Earl of Cornwall; for the payment whereof we have made over and delivered to 
him all our Jews of England !*' In the old Jewry is the church of St. Olave, 
with a tablet to Alderman Boydell, bearing a long inscription that does but jus- 
tice to this enlightened and generous patron of art. Of the other churches of 
this class we may mention a few for the sake of the incidental matters of interest 
connected with them. In St Edward the King a church also beautiful, in spite of 
the exlremest simplicity of pbin, from the picturesque effect of the dark oak pews, 
pulpit, and galleriet, so admirably contrived and so richly carved, and which ia 



remarlcaKie for havings its altar on the north, are some handsome modem stained 
glass, and two pictures. Moses and Aaron, b}' Etty. In the old church of St. 
Stephen, Coleman Street, was the monument of Anthony Munday, the great 
literary and mechanical architect of civic pageants. for a long period of years, a 
dramatic writer, and an antiquary, who published the third edition of Stows 
' Survey,* with additions professedly received from Stow himself; and in auothcr 
old church, that of St. Mildred, Poultry, one whose inscription told us, — 

" Here THomsa Tuflser clad in eartli doth lie. 
That somelime made the ' Points of Husbandry/ " &c. 

Tusser's disposition must have been somewhat changeable. Fuller describes 
him as '* successively a musician, schoolmaster, serving-man, husbandman, grazier, 
poet, more skilful in all than thriving in any vocation'* Inigo Jones was buried, 
at the age of eighty (as estimated), in St. Btniiet. Paul's Wharf; it seems 
strange, therefore, to read of his death being hastened by any cause, yet it is said 
that he did die prematurely through the vexations and anxiety brought on him 
by his loyal tendencies in politics and his Roman Catholic in religion : on the 
latter ground he was subjected to a heavy fine in 1646. He died in I65I. 
Tne church of AUhallows the Great may be mentioned fur its beautiful carved 
oak screen, with very slender twisted pillars, supporting a rich entablature, in 
the centre of which is an eagle with outspread wings ; the whole most exquisitely 
carved. The feeling that brought this picturesque piece of decoration here, is 
one that it is pleasant to have to record. The Merchants of the Steel-) ard, it is 
well known, occupied the adjoining precincts, and in early times probably used 
the church; their descendants, the Hanse Merchants of the last century, as sup- 
posed (for the time is uncertain), sent over this screen as a token of their remem- 
brance of the old connection. With the church of St. Michael s, Paternoster 
Royal, the name of Whiltington is inseparably associated j there it was he founded 
his magnificent college, with its Master, four Fellows, Masters of Arts, clerks, 
' conducts,' and choristers, and bestowed on it the rights and profits of the church 
which belongetl to him. Malcolm mentions a portrait of him as being in the 
possession of the Mercer's Company, which goes some way towards confirming 
the truth of one feature of the popular biography of him: it bears date 1536, 
the inscription, R. Whiltington, and exhibits clearly enough a cat by his 
aide. The history of his monument is disgraceful. An incumbent of the 
parish, one Mountain, in the reign of Edward VI., dared to open it with the view 
of finding buried treasure, and being disappointed contented himself, we suppose* 
with the leaden enclosures, which were at all events taken away at the time: in 
the ensuing reign the parishioners re-wrapped the body in lead. The whole, in- 
cluding the monument, unfortunately dibai>peared in the 6re. The modern church 
possesses a work of art of high value — Hilton's admirable picture of Mary Magda- 
lene anointing the feet of Jesus, who is reproving Judas for his envious complaint 
that the ointment was not sold and the money given to the poor, in the beautiful 
passage "The poor always have ye with you, but me ye have not always.'* 
Lastly, in St. Michael's, Wood Street, after a strange scries of vicissitudes re- 
garding its preservation, was buried the head of the Scottish monarch who fell 
on Flodden field. The battle was fought on the 9th of September, 1513, and 








the Ixxly of Jumcs was found on the same day by Lord Dacre among the slain, 
and recognised not only by hir? but by the deceased king's own chancellor and 
others ; it is difficult to understand, therefore, how there could ever have been 
any real doubt on the matter. Stow, in his account of the church, gives tho 
subsequent history. The body was "closed in lead, and conveyed from thence 
to London, and so to the monastery of Sheen (Richmond), in Surrey, where it 
remained for a time, in what order I am not certain. But since the dissolution 
of that house, in the reign of Edward VL, Henry Gray, Duke of Suffolk, 
being lodged and keeping house there, I have been showed the same body, bo 
lapped in lead close to the head and body, thrown into a waste-room amongst 
the old timber, lead, and other rubble. Since the which time workmen there, for 
their foolish pleasure, hewed off his head; and Lancelot Young, Master Glazier 
to Queen Klizabcth, feeling a sweet savour to come from thence, and seeing tho 
same dried from ail moisture, and yet the form remaining, with the hair of the 
head, and beard, red, brought it to London, to his house in Wood Street, where 
for a time he kept it for the sweetness, but in the end caused the sexton of that 
church to bury it amongst other bones taken out of their chamel." 

In the churches on the ancient plan, the Basilical. with their nave and side 
aisles, and central recess for the altar, and occasionally with their clerestory above, 
we have to deal with a much more imjwvtant class of architectural productions. 
The churches of St. Magnus, Bartholomew by the Exchange (now lost). Bride, 
Bow, Andrew, Holborn, Dunstan's in the East, and Michael's, CornhiU, all Ijclong 
to this division^ of which they are the most distinguished ornaments. St. Magnus, 
it appears from Malcolm, has been rebuilt, but, we presume, without material 
alterations of Wren's design. It now presents a noble interior, in spite of the 
appearance of want of solidity produced by the slender columns, and exceedingly 
broad intervals between. The church is further distinguished by ono of the 
handsomest altar-pieces of its kind in London, and by the circumstance that 
Miles Coverdale was rector of the church till 1560, when he resigned it. The 
parishioners, within the last few years, have erected a handsome memorial of his 
presence among them. St. Bartholomew's, with remains of its ancient tower, and 
a body remarkable for its simple harmony of proportion, claimed a nearer con- 
nection with this translator of the first entire edition of the Bible published in 
the English language, for he was buried beneath its communion-table. Bride 
Church, with its most beautiful of steeples, and its sumptuous though not very 
accnrate copy, in stained glass, of Rubens's great picture, the Descent from the 
Cross, has a fine but not in any way remarkable interior ; we may therefore pass it 
with a brief notice of the eminent men who have been interred in the old or in 
the existing structure; such as — Wynken de Worde, the assistant and successor 
of the great printer whom Pope, in his Uunciad, when describing the altar raised 
by Bays for the immolation of his unsuccessful writings, thus mentions — 

" Tlicrc Caxton slept, with Wynken by his side, 
One cissp'il in wuod. and one in atrong cowhide:" 

Sir Richard Baker, author of the * Chronicles of the Kings of England,' who died in 
distress in the neighbouring Fleet prison ; NichoMs, the author of the ' History of 
Leicestershire;* and above all, Samuel Richardson, with his wife and family. 
the illustrious rival of the Fieldings and Goldsmiths. Bow Church is perhaps. 



of all the buildings we have roentioned, the most distinguished for breadth and 
grundi'ur of effect. It is an adaptation from Wron'0 favourite classical authority, 
the Temple of Peace, at Rome. Among other peculiarities, the happy mode of 
introducing the galleries may be noticed. The memorials of the dead are nume- 
rous here, and include a large marble monument by Banks, to Bishop Newton, 
with an inscription, in which is the passage—" Reader, if you would be further 
informed of his character, acquaint yourself with his writings." As to the tower 
of Buw Church, that object of universal admiration fur its beauty may challenge 
equally universal attention to its history, which is so full of matter that we almost 
hesitate in our limited space to refer to any of the details, lest we should be 
tempted too far. From its foundation below — a Roman causeway, discovered by 
Wrtn during the erection — to the belfry above where hang the bells, which 
have become a bye-word ; from the exterior balcony over the door, with its 
recollections of Queen Philippa'a awkward accident, to the interior with its asso- 
ciations of murder and siege, the pile, either in itself or in its ancestors, has 
scarcely one separate portion that has not also its own separate story. There 
was formerly a stone building near the site of the present tower, erected for the 
use of the royal family to witness the great public processions that so often in 
old times passed through Cheapsidc, and in consequence of Edward's queen, 
whilst standing, with the ladies of her court, on a temporary wooden scaffuld to 
witness a magnificent tournament, having fallen '* with some shame" upon the 
knights and others beneath. The King would have punished the artisans who 
had raised so insecure a structure; but the Queen intercetling. he contented 
himself with the erection of a proper building, of which the balcony over the door 
facing Cheapsidc is a kind of mcinentu. The murder cummitted in the interior of 
the old tower was that of Lawrence Ducket, a goldsmith, who had danger- 
ously wounded one Ralph Crepin. and taken shelter here, but being suddenly 
seized in the night was strangled, and hun>^ up so as to give the idea of his 
having committed suicide. Some time after a boy, who had been an unnoticed 
spectator of the whole, revealed the truth, and the assassins and their accom- 
plices, sixteen in numl>er, were hung, a woman * Alice * burnt, many rich persons 
*' hanged by the purse" (Stow's expression), the church interdicted, and the 
doors and windows filled with thorns, till the whole was properly purified. This 
was in 1'284. Rather less than a century before. Bow Church became the scene 
of an event of infinitely greater, indeed of national importance. When Richard I. 
was engaged in the Holy Land, his oHiters at home, in coUecting funds for his 
supply, levied an extraordinary taillage upon the City of London. A corrupt 
practice, it seems, had crept into the local government, of apportioning the 
respective shares of each citizen unTHirly, the managers of course sparing them- 
selves, who were the best able to bear the exaction, at the expense of their poorer 
fellow-citizens. A citizen of Saxon descent, called from his long beard, William 
a la b'trhe by the Normans, but properly, William Fitz-Oabert, who had already 
favourably distinguished himself by his devotion to the cause of the people, 
chiefly of the same descent as himself, now stood forth, and denounced, in most 
eloquent language, the wrong attempted to be perpetrated. Failing to convince 
the Norman rulers, he crossed the seas to Richard, from whom he returned with 
a promise of redress. This was too much for the patience of his adversaries; it 




Wfts bad enough that he should fill the people, as he had done, with ''an inordi- 
nate deairc of liberty and happiness;*' but that he, a Saxon, should dare tO' 
interfere between them and the monarch, was monstruus ; »u Hubert Walter,^ 
Grand Justiciary of England, adopted a mode of prevention almost ludicrous, 
for the contrast between the smallness of the object, and the sweeping and reck- 
lese nature of the means, that of forbidding any man of the commonalty of 
London from quitting the City. Some traders, going, according to custom, to the 
great fair then held at Stamford, were the first victims of this exquisite specimen 
of an executive government; they were thrown into prison, and it became 
evident that the prohibition was to be really carried into effect, at whatever 
cost. Then began the poorer citizens to combine themselves into an asaociatioa 
for their common defence, and their numbers swelled so fast that when their 
leader. William Longbeard, was cited to appear before a parliament convoked by 
the chief functionaries of the realm, they accompanied him in such immense mul- 
titudes, that no one dared to proceed with the charges against him. Other 
mudes were now resorted to ; skilful emissaries introduced themselves into the 
councils of the disafiV-cted. and worked upon their minds by every method that 
could be devised ; the members of the government alternately conciliated and 
tbreatened, with similar views, until the conspirators began to hesitate — to doubt 
each other's fidelity, and at last to allow the government quietly to obtain as 
hostages the children of a great number of families. Of course the power of the 
conspiracy was then broken, and the government, relieved of its fears, exerted itself 
to get possession of the ringleader, that it might be utterly annihilated. Two per- 
sons undertook the dangerous task ; for some days they watched all his motions, 
having at hand a concealed band of armed men, to seize him when they should 
give the signal. An opportunity at last offered; he was walking along with 
only nine followers ; they approached carelessly till he was within reach, then 
■nddenly threw themselves upon him, and endeavoured to hold him whilst the 
armed men rushed from their place of concealment to their assistance. But 
Longl>eard*s hand was as ready as his tongue, and in one instant the foremost of 
the assailants was pierced to the heart; in the next Longbeard was fighting hii 
way with his little band towards Bow Church, or, as it was then called, St. Mury at 
Arches. He succeeded in getting safely into the lower, which he barricaded, and 
then maintained so stoutly, that after three days spent in ineffectual attempts to 
force it by ordinary means, they were compelled on the fourth to resort to fire. 
Driven forth by the flames, Longbeard and his fellow unfortunates were speedily 
overpowered and bound. In this state he was stabbed by a son of the man he 
had slain four days before, and thus wounded, tied to the tail of a horse and 
dragged to the Tower, where the Archbishop sentenced him to the gallows. In 
the same terrible plight he was drawn to Smilbfield, and hung with the others. 
The terrible Saxon Longbeard seemed destined to be an eternal plague to the 
ruling Normans. Not long after his death a system of Smithfield i)ilgrimages 
began, that promised to rival in popularity those of the Canterbury martyr. 
People iVom all parts came to the spot where the '* King of the Poor'* had 
breathed his last, and where miracles attested the horror of Heaven at the deed 
that had been committed. The Archbishop could not even drive away by force 



these credulous worshippers, till he had established a permanent guard on the 
spot, and scourged and imprisoned numbers of both men and women. The pre- 
sent tower has been rebuilt, though on the model of the original, aa seen in the 
following view. 

[Bo> Chuich UMJ CbMpaMa, ITU.] 

The tower of St. Andrew*8, Holborn, of the date of Henry VI., displays Wren's 
restoring hand in so unfiivourabte a light that wc willingly pass to the interior. 
the arcbitecfs own composition, that we may admire the air of magniBceuce he 
has given to it. All the accessoriL'S tend to enhance this effect — the gildings, the 
paintings, the stained glass, which in the chancel reach to a high point of splen- 
dour. St. Andrew's may almost be called the poets' church, from the number of 
that glorious but unhappy fraternity that have been in one way or another con- 
nected with it, from the time of Webster, ihe author of the ' White Devil' and 
the ' Duchess of Malfy/ who was parish clerk, down to the late Henry Necle, in- 
terred here, after his suicide in a stale of temporary insanity. Under the date of 
1698, as Malcolm was informed, the parish register records the christening of the 
poet Savage, by direction of Earl Rivers, who, according to the mother — Lady 
Macclesfield's — own confession of unfaithfulness to her husband, was the father. 
Disowned as he grew up by both his unnatural parents, unaware even who they 
were, till accident discovered them to him, suffering generally from poverty, and 
almost unceasingly from his own ill-rcgulatcd passions; there are few literary 
lives more truly melancholy than that of Savage. Wc need not wonder that 
(in Johnson's words), he was " very seldom provoked to laughter." One terrible 
event with him seemed ever to be the precursor of another, each increasing in 
intensity. The killing a man in a tavern broil leads to Kontence of death, and 
that to a mother striving to intercept the pardon bestowed upon him. and the 
whole to the publication of *' ihc Bastard," in which poetry was prostituted to the 
most awful purpose, perhaps, on record — that of holding a mother up to the 
reprobation and contempt of the world. Yet, if ever there was a man deserving 
pity, it was Savage ; and he obtained more than that from one who was little 






inclined, by habit or principle, to confound right and wrong. The friendship of 
Johnson and Savage is one of the most touching and beautiful things in literary 
history. If greater sufferings vere needed than he experienced generally 
through life to expiate his faults, the -circumstances of his death, in a jail at 
Bristol fur debt, in 174:3, may surely be deemed sufficient. As in one |>oet*s his- 
tory we have wandered by a melancholy path from St. Andrew's to Bristol, by 
that of another slill more saddening, on account of the loftier nature concerned, 
we may return. Nine years alXer Savage's death in Bristol there was born in 
the same place one who, coming to London with the romantic notion that talents 
of a generally high order as a writer, and powers unsurpassed at the same age 
as a poet, should be sufficient to supply his moderate demands of food, clothing, 
and raiment; possessing at the same time too much pride to turn his muse into 
a lackey to dangle after patrons, found himself, after the most indefatigable ox* 
ertions, literally starving. Suicide and the workhouse burying-ground of St. 
Andrew's complete his history, at the age of seventeen. The parish register of 
August 28, 1770, shows the following entry — *' William Chatterton,*' the mistake, 
of course, regarding the name of a pauper being very excusable. The only thing 
that surprises us is the addition by a later hand, of the words ''The Poet/* 
Had not that fact better be forgotten at St. Andrew's ? 

With respect to the churches of St. Michael, Cornhill, and St. Dunstan, East, one 
of the most curious results of Wren's studies in combining the Italian and Gothic 
styles is exhibited in the history of the former, which had first a body erected in 
the Italian style to the fine old Gothic tower spared by the fire, and then, fifty years 
later, when the tower was pulled down, a reversal of the former process in the 
LTcction of a Gothic tower to the Italian body. Fabian was buried here. The 
tuwcr of St. Dunstan's is an imitation of that of St. Nicholas at Newcastle, built 
in the fifteenth century, a circumstance that of course lessens the architect's merit 
in giving us so elegant and fairy-like a thing. Wren's biographer, Elwes, gives 
the folloiving anecdote on the authority of an anonymous friend : — " When Sir 
Christopher Wren made the first attempt of building a steeple upon quadran- 
gular columns in this country (St. Dunstan's in the East), he was convinced of 
Itur truth of his architectural principle; but as he had never before acted upon 
it, and as a failure would have been fatal to his reputation, and awful in its con- 
uquences to the neighbourhood of the edifice, he naturally felt intense anxiety 
when the superstructure was completed, in the removal of the supporters. The 
surrounding people shared largely in the solicitude. Sir Christopher himself 
went to London Bridge, and watched the proceedings through a lens. The 
ascent of a rocket proclaimed the stability of the steeple; and Sir Christopher 
himaelf would afterwards smile that he ever could, even for a moment* 
have doubted the truth of his mathematics."— J. J. Mr. Elwcs says the first 
part of the story is evidently incorrect, and that Wren would hardly have 
attempted what he doubted; he then relates as evidence "on the contrary," that 
the architect being informed one night that a dreadful hurricane had damaged 
sU the steeples in London, at once replied, " Not St. Dunstan's, I am quite sure'* 
The last story, however, rather supports than contradicts the first ; the speech of 
the 000 is but the smile of the other put into words ; and both may be referred to 



a similar origin, some — misunHeTstood — peculiarities in the mode of erection ; it ?« 
to be observed also, that doubts during experiments and after, are very different 
things. The body of the church built by Wren has now gone, it having been re- 
built in harmony with the steeple, by Mr. Lainy^, in the years 1817 to 1821. At 
the east end, a large and bcauiiful window has been preserved, which is under- 
Btood to have been an exact copy of one Wren discovered in the re-building. 
Among the events which have been recorded as preserving the features of old 
times and customs, better than any regular descriptions could do, is one of some 
interest connected with St. Dunstan's. thus given in • Stow's Chronicle:'— 
"In the year 1417, and on the afternoon of Easter Sunday, a violent quarrel 
took place in this church between the ladies of the Lord Strange and Sir John 
TruBscl, Knt, which involved the husbands and at length terminated in a general 
contest. Several persons were seriously wounded ; and an unlucky fishmonger, 
named Thomas Petwarden, killed. The two great men, who chose a church for 
their field of battle, were seized, and committed to the Poultry Compter; and 
the Archbishop of Canterbury excommunicated them. On the 2Ist of April that 
prelate heard the particulars at St. Magnus Church, and, finding Lord Strange 
and his lady the aggressors, he cited them to appear before him. the Lord Mayor^ 
and others, on the 1st of May, at St. Paul's, and there submit to penance, which 
was inHictcd by compelling all their servants to march before the rector of St. 
Dunstan*s in their shirts, followed by the Lord, bareheaded, and the Lady bare- 
footed, and Kentwode, archdeacon of London, to the church of St. Donstan, where, 
at the hallowing of it. Lady Strange was compelled to fill all the sacred vessels 
with water, and offer an ornament, value 10/., and her husband a piece of silver 
worth 5/.* What a contrast to this state of things is the bill now before parlia- 
ment, where the Church steps forward to renounce the last few vestiges that 
remain to it of the power which caused such scenes to be exhibited in our streets 
and churches! Among the remaining buildings of the Basilical style may be 
mentioned St. Andrew Wardrobe, with its striking monument by Bacon to Ro- 
mainc ; St. Augustine, where the fraternity of the same name were accustomed, 
B8 Strypc tells us, to meet on the eve of St. Austin, and in the morning at high 
mass, when every brother offered a penny, and afterwards was ready either to eat 
or to revel, as the master and wardens directed ; St. Sepulchre's, with its exceed- 
ingly beautiful antique porch and its dreadful associations with the neighbouring 
prison; and, lastly, St. James. Westminster, where Wren has exhibited the most 
consummate union of beauty and fitness in the interior, and, as a kind of practical 
antithesis, lef^ the exterior destitute of these or any other valuable qualities. 
The chnrch was founded, chiefly through the agency of the Earl of St. Albans, 
as a chapel of ease to St. Martin's during the latter part of Charles's reign, but 
made parochial in the reign of Charles's succcfisor, James. There are many 
features of the interior that will repay the visitor's attention, but more particu- 
larly the marble font, carved by Gibbons, an exquisite specimen of art. The 
support of the basin consists of the trunk of the tree of knowled«^c, with thtf 
branches and foliage of which it is partially covered, and by the side of the tree 



* * Itfodiaom Rvdivivom r. iii- p. -144. 



iftre two of the most gracefully sculptured figures that cao be well conceived, repre- 
^■enting Eve offering to Adam the apple. In this church was buried the footman, 
^bookseller, and poet, Dodslcy. 

In the last class of Wren's churches that we have to notice, the Domed, the 
genius of the architect shines out more clearly than in either of the others, as 
being works of greater pretension than the one class, and not, like the other (the 
Basilical), apt to suggest by its form thoughts of the still more beautiful, ancient 
•tyle that they superseded. At the headof this division stands the far-famed St. 
Stephen's, Walbrook, into the interior of which no one can have ever entered for 
the first time without obtaining a higher ojjinion even of the architect of St* 
Paul's. Proportion, harmony, and repose are its pervading characteristics; and» 
with one exception— the walls left almost in their primitive nakedness — beseems 
to have felt the influence of his own beautiful work lead him into a greater 
degree of delicacy in all the subordinate features of decoration to harmonise 
therewith, than is usual with him. Hence the perfect efiect produced. Hence 
the opinions of one of our most accomplished architectural critics, that all 
things considered its equal in its style is not to be found in Europe : hence 
the observation, '' Hud the materials and volume been so durable and exten- 
sive as those of St. PauTs Cathedral, Sir Christopher Wren had consum- 
mated a much more eflicient monument to his well-earned fame, than that 
fabric affords."* The dimensions of St. Stephen's are only 82 feet 6 inches from 
east to west, within the walls, and 59 feet 6 inches from north to south, the 
ground plan forming therefore nearly a parallelogram. Of the ini-idcntal features 
of the church, the most remarkable is West's picture of the death of St. Stephen, 
which is placed against (thereby concealing) the central eastern window. The 
exterior, as usual. Wren has treated as though scarcely condescending to notice 
its existence ; till the aspiring steeple attracts hia regard, when he puts forth his 
strength, and makes it his own. St. Benet Fink, with its external walls in the 
form of a decagon, and worthy of notice if it be only for the ingenuity exhibited 
in the conquest over the difBcuItics attending a confined and irregular position^ 
is another church of this class ; as are also St. Swithin's, Cannon Street, with the 
oldest piece of metropulitan antiquity, the well-known London stone, let into its 
exterior walls, and St. Antholin's, or Anthony's ; neither of which, however, require 
any more particular architectural notice. Near to the last-mentioned building, 
the Scottish commissioners were located during their residence in London just 
before the outbreak of the Civil War, and there was a passage from the house 
into the gallery of the church ; the minister of which was a Puritan. " This 
benefit," says Clarendon, " was well foreseen on all sides in the accommodation, 
and this church assigned to them for their own devotions, where one of their own 
chaplains still preached, amongst which Alexander Henderson was the chief. 

To hear these sermons there was so great a conflux and resort by the 

citizens, out of humour and faction, by others of all qualities out of curiosity, by 
•omc that they might the better justify the contempt they had of them, that from 
the first appearance of day in the morning of every Sunday to the shutting in of 

* BritUu and Pugui'i lUuttniuina of the Public Building* ttf Loodoii. 



the light the chtirch was never empty ; they (especially the women) who had the 
happiness to get into the church in the morning (they who could not hung upon 
or about the windows without, to be auditors or spectators) keeping the places 
till the afternoon exercises were finished." The noble historian, whilst covertly 
Balirising the folly or credulity or " taction," that could alone in his opinion bring 
such assemblages together, tells us something that requires still greater faith or 
absurdity to believe, namely, that the service was flat and insipid : a cause un- 
likely to produce such effects; incredible, if we consider the fiery fanaticism 
which every where characterised the parties in question. But taste is often made 
the scapegoat of opinion. The Cavaliers, whose opinion Clarendon has here most 
probably perpetuated, would of course like the men as men very little, their busi- 
ness in London less (to negotiate a treaty with their monarch, backed by an irresist- 
ible army in the northern counties), their increasing intimacy with the Knglish 
reformers, religious and political, least of all ; for it was tolerably evident by this 
time that in the forthcoming struggle the Scotch would play an important part, 
and very possibly have the power in their hands to turn the scale decidedly in 
favour of king or people. Apart from the novelty (a most refreshing one to 
many) of seeing and sharing in a more simple mode of worship than hud been 
permitted since L.aud*8 ascendancy (of whose proceedings the consecration of 
Katharine Cree in our last number offers a striking example), this no doubt was 
the origin of such assemblages. To the English reformers it was all but a matter 
of life and death the part these men at St. Antholin's would take. Strafford's 
trial was pending, Laud had been just arrested, the tide of the revolution was 
rolling on. but as yet with a force which the King might possibly be able to con- 
tend with successfully; we may imagine, then, the importance of that army ou 
the frontiers, of that declaration made by one of the commissioners, Baillie. 
respecting the negotiations, which, said he, " we will make long or short accord- 
ing as the necessities of our good friends in England require, for they are still in 
that fray, that if we and our army were gone they were yet undone." In the 
church of St. Mildred. Bread Street, which is small, without columns, but beau- 
tiful from the elegance of the arches which support the dome, and of the cornice 
of the latter, we meet with a later reminiscence of the Civil War in connexion 
with the memorial of Sir T. Crisp, which refers to the exertions of his father. 
Sir Nicholas Crisp, in the royal cause, involving, it is stated, losses exceeding in 
amount 100,000?. ; "but this was repaired in some measure by King Charles 1 1. ;" 
a fact that should never be forgotten, since there arc so very few of the kind in 
the history of the " merry monarch." The Sir Nicholas Crisp referred to was a 
wealthy merchant of London, who had been driven from thence by a parlia- 
mentary prosecution, and joined the King at Oxford. He is said to have been 
Charles' chief agent for the receipt of foreign succours, as well as the manager 
of no inconsiderable part of a similar business at home. Whilst the King was in 
the lines at Oxford, Crisp was most indefatigable in his vocation, a perfect 
Proteus in the shapes he assumed to elude the inquiries or interference of the 
parliamentarians: one day he was to be seen as a porter, with a basket offish on 
his head, watching the arrival of vessels; the next, as a mounted butter-woman 
between her panniers, on the road to head-quarters. In 1643 he set on foot a 




p'o*. to secure a large body of secret adhercnte in the metropolis, ready at any 
time to start into sudden activity, by obtaining; from the King a cuiiunission of 
array, which Crisp was to fill up with the proper names. The plan was. however, 
discovered by Parliament, about ^.hr same time that it discovered the poet Wal- 
ler's, and the two not unnaturally became intimately blended together in the 
minds of the people. The only remaining churches that we shall notice arc those 
of Mary Abchurch, and Mary at Hill. The former exhibits in the interior a 
large and handsome dome supported on a medallion cornice, and is adorned with 
paintings by Sir James Thornhill, according to Mr. Britton, whilst, in the Pic- 
torial England, Isaac Fuller, one of the indigenous scholars of the Vcrrio school, 
is mentioned as the painter. The Corinthian altar-piece is decorated by some of the 
finest carvings of the linest of masters in the art. Gibbons, whose name wc have 
had occasion to mention so frequently in connexion with the churches of London, 
that one cannot help wondering where he found time to execute his manifold com- 
tnissions. The delicacy of the earrings of St. Marv Abchurch reminds one of the 
stury of the pot of flowers cari'cd by the same artist whilst living in Belle Sauvage 
court, *' which shook surprisingly with the motion of the coaches that passed by.'* 
St. Mary at Hill we mention not so much for the sake of the architecture of the 
present structure, as for the opportunity of giving another illustration from the 
history of the former of the magnificence of the old churches of the metropolis. 
8t. Mary's had no less than seven altars, each with its chantry priest regularly 
and permanently attached, and three brotherhoods, comprising of course a still 
larger number of religious. This gives us a pretty fair glimpse of the magni- 
tude of the former establishment of St. Mary ; the inventory of the apparel for 
the high altar, only, with the date 1485-6, gives us more than a glimpse of its 
splendour. It occupies great part of three quarto pages in Malcolm, and includes 
such items as altar cloths of russet cloth of gold ; curtains of russet sarsenet, 
fringed with silk ; a complete priest's " suit of red satin, fringed with gold,** 
which comprised, it appears, three copes, two chasubles, two albs, two stoles, 
two "amytts," three fanons, and two girdles;* another suit, of white cloth of 
gold ; a third, of red cloth of Lucchcsc gold ; vestments of red satin, em- 
broidered with lions of gold, and of black velvet, powdered with lambs, moons, 
and stars ; canopies of blue cloth of bawdekin, with " birds of flour in gold," and 
of red silk with green branches and white flowers, powdered with swans of gold 
between the branches; copes, streamers, and mitres, fur the boy-bishop and his 
followers " at Saint Nicholas tide." How inadequate, after all, are the most 
glowing descriptions of our romanciata to convey to us a sufficient idea of the 
scenes that must have been presented in our ecclesiastical buildings four or 
five centuries ago! 

The costs of erection of Wren's churches of course varied greatly in accordance 
with their great differences in plan and amount of decoration. Some were 
built for less than 2500^. as those of St. Anne Aldersgate Street, St. Matthew 
Friday Street, and St. Nicholas Cole Abbey; many for about 5000/, or 6000£., 

* Tlie unice vu »d under garmeiiL, oriir which wu worn flnt the alb like a robe nr lurplice, thrn tbe grille 
Mid itcie i Uw fMnaa or mi&i|il« wai a tiiwel Ueld by tbe jnieat duriug maai ; Uic cbawblfl wai a kitul of amaUer 



among which may be enumerated St. Bartbolomow, St. Peter ComhiU, and 3€ 
Edmund the King; whilst three, St. Bride. Christ Church, and St. Lavrcnco 
Jewry, cost nearly t2,{t00/., and one. Bow, above i5,400i. In contrast with these 
last four stands the most beautiful of aU Wren's ecclesiastical Btructun-s, St. 
Stephen's Walbrook. which was erected for 7652/. 13'. j a significant jtroof how 
little the true architect's fame need depend upon the mere amount of funds ac 
his disposal — -upon the extent of space he has to cover — the quantity of brick ur 
stune to pile. 


l ah n i m fc ilitfi*«iia faiutmA. 


No. III. — Modern Churches. 

Ip it were Wren's ambition to found a school of ecclesiastical architectnre in 
Kn^land, as well as to distinguish himself practically as an architect^ he was not 
only successfal, but Tired long enough to enjoy that success personally in wit* 
nessing the two most eminent of his successors follow in the path he had marked 
out. Despising the Gothic " crinkle crankle' as much as Wren himself, and having 
as little feeling for the simple elegance of the Greek, Gibbs and Hawksmoor (the 
latter Wren's pupil), went to the same sources of inspiration as the architect of 
St Paul's, namely, the works of the Italian artists, who revived the Roman 
school of architecture ; but who in so doing, whilst atfecting the severest strict- 
ness in following its rules, sadly overlooked its spirit. The desire for the 
magnificent which formed an essential part of the character of the Roman people, 
and which had led them to alter, to adapt, and to extend the architectural prin- 
ciples they had derived from Greece, and, in many points at least, with the most 
signal success, became, too frequently, an almost insane passion with their Italian 
desccndanta, to which all higher qualities were sacrificed, through which all per* 
ception was dimmed of the elements that had combined to the construction of the 
great wurks of antiquity, making them, at once and for ever, consummately grand 
and beautiful. With what zeal were the ancient writers studied whilst the 
vot. V, o 



buildings from wliich they had drawn their precepts were left to moulder in 
unregarded oblivion, or examined only to support prc-conceivcd theories ! With 
what precision was every feature of every order systematized, whilst the uses of 
the orders were left to individual taste or caprice ! With what eloquence was the 
purity of the Doric and Tuscan, and Ionic and Corinthian, expatiated upon, 
whilst building after building was being erected, apparently bu'. to show liow far 
and farther still corruption could be carried! Great differences prevailed* of 
course, between the architects of this class; some of them, whilst avoiding the 
worst features of debasement, were enabled through the originality of their minds 
to shed a glory over their productions, that made the eye at once less capable of, 
and less inclined to measure accurately the latent defects of the style: pre-emi- 
nent among these was Palladio in Italy ; to their numbers also belong Inigo 
Jones and Wren in England, and perhaps, though in a much more limited 
degree. Wren's immediate successors, the architects before mentioned. The 
splendour of Palladio's reputation shows how popular the Italian-Homan style 
became among his countrymen, and its introduction into England by Jones, 
and more extensive difi'usion as well as higher developement by Wren, was 
marked by an equally brilliant reception: as well it might be, when it gave us 
such works as the Banqueting House, St. Paul's, and St. Stephen's, Walbrook, 
the majestip grandeur of the two first, and the strikingly harmonious combina- 
tions uf the last, enhanced by their being seen through the most delusive and 
enchanting of all atmospheres — that of novelty. Well, two centuries have 
passed since the erection of the iirst of these buildings, and— the style has passed 
too. Of all the churches (to refer only to such works) built in London, during 
its prevalence, how few are there that now possess any higher claims to notice 
than those derived from their pointing the moral and adorning the tale of this 
somewhat remarkable phase in the history of English architecture. 

Never was time more propitious for an artistical revolution than that which 
witnessed the growth of the style in question among us. With one stroke, as it 
were, of the parliamentary pen, lifty new churches were ordered to be built in 
consequence of the destruction caused by the fire ; and when these were erected, 
and Wren had developed Ai* views, fifty more were determined upon bj' the 
same authority, thereby presenting a similar opportunity for the development of 
the views of his successors. We refer to the Act passed in the 10th year of the 
rexgn of Queen Anne, having for one of its objects, to remedy the insuffi- 
ciency of accommodation afforded by the churches of London and the vicinity ; 
and for another, as we learn from the commission subsequently issued to 
regulate the necessary proceedings, the *' redressing the inconvenience and 
growing mischiefs which resulted from the increase of Dissenters and Popery.'* 
The expense was to be defrayed by a small duty on coals brought into the 
port of London, for a certain period. We may here observe in passing, that 
the intentions of this Act, as regards the number of structures to be built, 
were but very imperfectly carried out. And now, as to the men who were 
to avail themselves of the magnificent field opened to their exertions. James 
Gibba was born about 1674, and educated at Aberdeen, where he took the 
degree of Master of Arts. In his twentieth year he visited Holland, and 
entered into the service of an architect. In 1700, through the advice and 







by the aaaistanoe of the Earl of Mar» his countryman and patron, he went to 
Italy, and studied for ten years. He then returned to England, to find the 
Earl of Mar in the ministry, at once able and willing to obtain employment 
for him from the Church Commissioners, The first stone of St, Mary's ia the 
Strand was laid in 1714, the steeple finished in 1717, and the whole conse- 
crated in 1723. As this — the first of Gibbs's ecclesiastical structures, has 
already been noticed in our pages,* and as ho greatly improved upon it in 
bis second, it will be sufficient here to describe the latter— St. Martin's in the 
Fields, the building on which Gibbs's fame chiefly rests — that fane, according 
to the poet Savage, who expressed only the general opinion of his time — 

** Where God delights to dwell, and man to pnuBc." 

St. Martin's was finished in 1726 at an expense of 37,000/. The chief feature 
of the exterior, the portico, needs neither description nor eulogy, it is so uni« 
versally known and admired. How much of that admiration has been owing to our 
want of familiarity with the Roman originals (the Corinthian order, the one hero 
nscd, we need hardly observe, was one of the results of the adaptation by ilomo 

tSu Uaitin'i Uuiich.] 
• 'The StrauJ/ No. XXXV. p. IW- 




of the architecture of Greece), am! how much to its ratrinsic merits, is not how- 
ever now so easy a question to decide as it onre seemed. We have already learnt 
to feel the entire unfitness of its arched windows and doors, for the position they 
occupy; and still more, the discordance between the portico and the building to 
which it is attached. Could it be possible to devise windows either less beauti- 
ful in themselves, or more preposterously unBt for the exquisitely elegant 
columns and pilasters, so lavishly bestowed over the whole edifice, than those we 
see here, stretching along each side their double lines of ugliness t The steeple 
again, though exceedingly stately and elegant in its form, harmonises little 
oetter with the classical portico ; and in the opinion of architects has another 
serious fault— instead of rising directly from the ground, it appears elevated 
above the roof. The interior presents an arched roof, supported by Corinthian 
columns, and in its general effect may deserve the commendation bestowed upon 
it, as " a perfect picture of architectural beauty,'** but if you examine the details 
with a more critical eye, you are reminded in every direction of Walpole's severer 
judgment, " In all is wanting that harmonious simplicity that speaks a genius*' 
Columns are cut by galleries which appear to have helped the artist out of a 
difficulty by consenting to stand wiLhuut support, the entablature is broken into 
bits, and the very profusion of decoration on the ceiling becomes an error, if you 
contrast it with the neighbouring parts that seem, in their comparative naked- 
Dcss, to have been sacrificed in consequence. Although a very ancient foundation^ 
and the parent of three or four others, St. Martin's has no particular features 
of interest in its earlier history ; of the later, the most noticeable is the list of 
notorious or eminent persons buried within its precincts. The frail, but warm- 
hearted Nell Gwynn, is among the number, who left the ringers a sum of money 
for their weekly entertainment. In the vaults under the church lies Mrs. Cent- 
livre, the dramatic writer, and in the churchyard Roubiliac, the great sculptor, 
who died in 1762, and whose funeral was attended by Hogarth and Reynolds. 
C. Dibdin was interred in the burial ground belonging to this church, at Camden 
Town ; a man who, had he rendered a tithe of the services actually performed 
by him to the naval strength of his country, under the name of a captain instead 
of that of a writer, would have died a wealthy peer, but, as it was, drew his last 
breath in poverty. 

Uawksmoor commenced operations about the same time as Gibbs, and with 
his best work, St. Mary VVoolnolh, which was finished in 1719. The exterior 
exhibits both his faults and excellences : it has something of the heaviness which 
characterised him and his great associate in various structures (Vanbrugh). but 
has also the air of magnificence that belongs to both, with something like har- 
monious simplicity of decoration. The interior is sumptuously beautiful, though 
injured, as may be seen in our view, by the pews ; the galleries also interfere 
uith the classical simplicity and harmony of the plan. If the Italian-Iioman 
school in England hud advanced from works like this, instead of steadily retreat- 
ing as if alarmed at its own success, we should have had possibly a very different 
fate to record in connection with it in these pages. But when Hawksmoor him- 
nclf FCt the example, what cbc was to be expected of the herd who were to follow i 

* Aliaii Cunmnghani. 


[luwnor o[8i. M^ry WuoluoUit, l^nlMn) !*lr««t.] 

Hia next church, St. Anne*s, Ltmehouse, finished in 1824, presenU a1! his worsi 
Qualities with scarcely any of his best; take away the indescribable circular 
porch, and the massive tower, with the equally indescribable collection of small 
obelisks placed by him upon the lop, and the whole might be aptly designated 
by the word prison. The interior, on the contrary, is very splendid as regardi 
the amount of decoration, but still worse in style from the confusion of the 
orders there used. If the architect had intended the minister occasionally to 
give his congregation a lesson on architecture, we could understand the pro- 
priety of the examples of composite columns* Ionic and Corinthian pillars, and 
Tuscan arches scattered about ; as it is, we can but wonder that St. Anne's, 
Limchouse. and St. Mary Woolnoth. are by the same man. His next work* 
St. George's Church, was in the same neighbourhood, and, we suppose, suffered 
from the same influences, whether of locality or otherwise ; of this we can only 
say that the most effective idea about it is the octagonal lantern on the top 
of the tower, which is surrounded by a series of square pillars, with round tops, 
presenting the exact appearance of so many cannons levelled against the 
sky. We must not forget to add one or two of the richest points about 
the erection of these buildings ; so far from treating the commissions with 
neglect, as might be supposed from the unsatisfactory result, it appears that 
Hawksmoor was studiously imitating Vanbrugh in his designs for them ; and 
better still, that according to Malcolm, St. George's is the product of the 
united genius of the ^v■o great men, Gibbs and Hawksmoor: the estimate, he 
says, was given in their names to the Commissioners. And what may it be sup- 





poEcd was the amount actually expended (which considerably exceeded the 
estimate) ? Why, 18,557/- 3*- Scf., or in rough terms, three thousand pounds 
more than the most expensive of Wren's churches. In St. George's, Blooms- 
bury, Hawksmoor made a material addition to his plans. Influenced pro- 
bably by the admiration excited by Gibbs' portico to St. Martins, he de- 
termined to have one for St. George's, and, es might have reasonably been 
expected, improved upon it in some points; it displays itself, for instance, 
bcUcr, from the height to which it is raised above the level of the street ; 
though it is considered inferior in point of execution. But what shall be 
said of the heavy-looking body behind, or of the steeple, which one writer 
(M^alpolc) calls a masterpiece of absurdity, whilst others prefer it to any 
other in the metropolis, on the ground of its originality, picturesque form, and 
expressiveness? Neither the lirsl quality nor the second can be denied; but if 
by expression is meant the expression of something finely appropriate, a brief 
lancolourcd description seems to us the best answer to the assertion. Upon the 
tower, which has an expression of majestic simplicity, rises a range of unattached 
Corinthian pillars and pediments, extending round the four sides of the steeple, 
with a Kind of double base, ornamented in the lower division with a round hole 
on each side, and a curious little projecting arch at each angle : above this stage 
commences a scries of steps, gradually narrowing, so as to assume a pyramidal 
appearance, the lowest of which are ornamented at the corners by lions and 
unicorns guarding the royal arms (the former with his tail and heels frisking in 
the air), and which support at the apex, on a short column, a statue, in Roman 
costume, of George I. Now the only expression apparent here to our eye, is, 
that the steps do certainly answer in one way the not unnatural query of how the 
King got to so uncommon and unaccountable a position. 

The other architects of the period in question, who rose into reputation ot 
notice by their churches, arc James, Archer, and Flitcroft. To the first we owe 
the aristocratic church of the most aristocratical of parishes, St. George's, Hanover 
Square, completed in 1 724, or two years before St. Martin's ; a circumstance of some 
importance, when we consider that its portico is considered to be only surpassed 
,by that of the church referred to. As to the interior, not only are all tlie 
■ orders there, but more we fear than either an antique Koman or Greek would be 
willing to recognise. It is, indeed, but too evident, that, with all the architects 
we have mentioned, in all their works, St. Mary Woolnoth alone excepted, they 
have been excellent in the exact proportion in which they have been least ori- 
ginal: their porticoes have chiefly made the fame of Gibbs. Hawksmoor, and 
James, which, at the best, we now learn from the highest authorities, arc, in all 
their beauty, but imperfect imitations of their respective originals.* St Lukes, 
Old Street, with its iluted obelisk for a spire, is another of James' works, erected 
in 1732. Archer's well-known production is St. John's church, Westminster, 
finished in 1728; and which, if it were possible to designate by any single phrase, 
it must be some such as — Architecture run mad. If one could imagine a collection 
of all the ordinary materials of a church in the last century, with an extraordinary 
profusion of decoration, of porticoes, and of towers, to have suddenly dropt down 

* Mr. Qwtlt, for tiuUncf, expranlj wyi tbiu of St Martin*^ wUIUt ackiwvlcUpitg it to be the be«t we Ure;. 



from tlic skies* and, l>y some freak of Nature, lo have fallen into a kind of order 
and harmony and fantastic grandeur, — the four towers at the angles, the porticoes 
at the ends and in the front. — it would give no very exaggerated idea of St, John's. 
Vanbrugh, says Pennant, had the discredit of the pile. There is something 
refreshing in turning from such a specimen of originality to the soberer form and 
unpretending style of St. Giles in the Fields, with its tall and graceful spire It 
is curious that this edifice, which has given to Flitcroft his reputation, should be 
attributed, in the Report of the Church Commissioners to the House of Com- 
mons, to Hawksmoor, who, they say, expended 8605/. 7s. 2d. upon it; but there 
is no doubt but Walpole, and the View, published in 1753, are correct in ascrib- 
ing it to Flitcroft, who was probably employed by Gibbs, and not by the Com- 
missioners. The interior has an arched coiling, supported by Ionic pillars, and is 
more than usually chaste and beautiful. The ' Resurrection Gate,' as the entrance 
at one comer of the churchyard is called, from the representation of that event 
seen on its upper portion, is of older date than the church, having been executed 
about 1687. The old church, to which it was then an adjunct, had in former times 
many rich monuments; one, to Sir Roger LEstrangc, the well-known loyalist 
and writer, still remains. During the civil war Sir Roger had some narrow 
escapes : once he was condemned to be shot as a spy, but managed to get away 
from his place of confinement. Inconsistency in political writers is a spectacle 
we arc not altogether unfamiliar with in our own limes, but this worthy Knight 
has given us one of the oddest instances of the kind perhaps on record. After 
the Restoration he published a newspaper, called the ' Public Intelligencer/ 
in the very first number of which he thus explains his views of the nature of the 
agency he was setting on foot : — " I think," says he " it makes the multitude too 
familiar with the actions and counsels of their superiors, too pragmatical and 
censorious, and gives thcni not only an itch but a kind of colourable right and 
license to be meddling with their government ;** therefore our acute logician 
hastens to give the multitude a fresh opjwrtunity. A more distinguished sharer 
in the turbulent but sublime war of principles that has made the seventeenth 
century for ever memorable, Andrew Marvel, was also interred here — a man, in 
whose reputation the glory of the patriot has eclipsed the fine powers of the poet. 
St. Giles also preserves the ashes of a truly great poet. Chapman, the trans- 
lator of Homer, as well as the author of an immense amount of original writings. 
One of the most curious things, perhaps, in the unwritten history of poets' 
opinions of each other, is Cowpcr's of Chapman. He had never seen the older 
poet's version till his own was far advanced, and, when he did see it, spoke of it 
with supreme contempt! This is entertaining enough now, when Chapman'a 
version has become almost universally recognised as that which alone gives 
us the true spirit and flavour of the blind old bard. But what a world of 
masterly epithets (Pope took care to borrow or imitate some of the best), of ex- 
quisite lines and passages, are there in Chapman in addition ! In that pointj 
las well as in the other, Cowper's translation will not bear the comparison. Hero 
bs one line of the numberless lines thnt^ once heard, there is no forgetting after- 
Mr arda — 

" And when llic I^dy of llie ligliti the rosy-fingcicJ Muru 
L Awoke," &c. 




in which poetry and music are truly and indissolubly 'married/ Another of the 
illustrious has yet to be mentioned in connection with St. Giles, an artist whose 
works have raised him to the very highest pinnacle of European fame as a 
Bculptor — a man whose Ufe was hut a counterpart of his works : each illustrating 
each. Flaxman was buried here on the l.'jth of December, ISUG, his body ac- 
companied to the grave by the President and Council of the Royal Academy. 
For once, an inscription speaks simple truth : we read here, " John Flaxman, 
R.A.. PS., whose mortal Ufe was a constant preparation for a blessed immor- 
tality : his angelic spirit returned to the Divine Giver un the 7th of December, 
1826, in the seventy-second year of his age." There is a peculiarly interesting 
circumstance connected with his death, told by Allan Cunningham, in his ' Lives 
of the British Sculptors,'* which we cannot resist the temptation of transcribing. 
He says, " The winter had set in, and, as he was never a very early mover, a 
stranger found him rising one morning when he called about nine o'clock. * Sir,' 
said the visitant, presenting a book as he spoke, ' this work was sent to me by 
the author, an Italian artist, to present to you, and at the same time to apologise 
for its extraordinary dedication. In truth, air, it was so generally believed 
throughout Italy that you were dead, that my friend determined to show the 
world how much he esteemed your genius, and having this book ready for pub- 
lication, he has inscribed it ' Al Ombra di Flaxman* No sooner was the book 
published than the story of your death was contradicted, and the author, affected 
by his mistake, which nevertheless he rejoices at, begs you will receive his work 
and his apology.* Flaxman smiled, and accepted the volume with unaffected 
modesty, and mentioned the circumstance. a> curious, to his own family and some 
of his friends." This occurred on Saturday, the 2nd of December, when he was 
well and cheerful ; the next day he was taken suddenly ill with cold, and on the 
7th was dead. The ground un which St. Giles's stands was formerly occupied 
by a hoB|jital, fbunded by Matilda, wife of Henry I,, for lepers; and it was in 
front of this hospital that Sir John Oldcastle, Lord Cobham, was so savagely 
burnt, during the reign of Henry V., his early friend. The phrase 'St. Giles's 
Bowl' will remind many of the custom that formerly prevailed here of giving 
every malefactor on his way to Tyburn a bowl of ale, as his last worldly draught, 
As to the host of other churches that aruse during the same or a little later 
period, it were useless to entrr into any architectural details. Eternal imitations 
a)>parent through eternal attempts at originality arc their chief characteristics 
where the architects had any ambition; where they had nut, their churches sank 
even below contempt, built as they mostly were in a style requiring splendour of 
decoration and harnumious combinations of form as its essentially redeeming 
features: qualities that the masters in the school alone could give. So we shall 
merely notice such of them as present any other features of moment. In St, 
Botolph's, Bishopsgate Street, the architecture of which, and of an extensive 
similar class, seems to us best described as of the imfiy cherubim with wings 
order (so favourite a species of decoration is that feature, and so completely doea 
it harmonise, in its way, with all around), lies buried, with a monument preserved 
from the old church. Sir Peter Paul Pindar, the inhabitant of the neighbouring 



• Pi|:t W«^ 




house in Bishopsgate Street, where we have still preserved a most rich and 
unique apectmen of the ancient domestic architecture of the metropolia. Sir 
Peter was one of the wealthiest, and, it is pleasant to add, one of the most muni- 
ficent-minded men of his time : his splendid benefactions to Old St. Paule will, 
no doubt, be recollected by our readers. Many instances of the same spirit in 
lesser matters may be found in the books of the parish. One of the most amusing 
is the pasty (a yearly gifl apparently) which he ^ave to the parishioners in 1634; 
we may judge of its size when we find that X9s. 7d. was paid for the mere *' flour, 
buiter, pepper, eggs, making, and baking.*" We may add, from the same books* 
another notice to those already given in our preceding articles, of the pleasant 
way in which parish affairs were formerly managed. In 1578, we find, "paid for 
frankincense and flowers, when the Chancellor sate with us/' l\s. In the church- 
yard there is a tomb inscribed with Persian characters, of which Stow gives the 
following account: "August 10, 1626. In Petty France [a part of the cemetery 
unconsecrated], out of Christian burial> was buried Hodges Shaughsware, a 
Persian merchant, who with his sun came over with the Persian ambassador, and 
yroM buried by his own son, who read certain prayers, and used other ceremonies, 
according to the custom of their own country, morning and evening, for a whole 
month after the burial ; for whom is set up, at the charge of his son, a tomb of 
stone with certain Persian characters thereon : the exposition thus — This grave 
is made for Hodges Shaughsware, the chiefest servant to the King of Persia for 
the space of 20 years, who came from the King of Persia and died in his service. 
If any Persian cometh out of that country, let him read this and a prayer for 
him, thelyord receivehissoul, for here lieth Maghmote Shaughsware, who was bom 
in the town Novoy. in Persia."* There is something affecting in the allusion to a 
chance visitor from the far -distant country ; — one of those touches of nature that 
make the wide world kin, — a desire on the part of the bereaved son to find 
some chance — even the remotest — -that his fathers ashes should be hallowed 
by human sympathy. In the churchyard of St, George, in the Borough, re- 
built 173], lies Bishop Bonner, who died in the neighbouring prison of tho 
Marshalsea in 1569, whither he was committed by Elizabeth for his refusal 
to take the oath of supremacy. An anecdote is told of him, at the period of his 
committal, which shows his temper in a more favourable light than his public 
condact would lead us to anticipate. On his way to the prison, one called out 
"The Lord confound or else turn thy heart!" Bonner coolly replied, " The 
Ix>rd send thee to ktep thy breath to cool thy jtorridge." To another, who in- 
sulted him on his de]irivation from the episcopal rank, he could even be witty. 
•' Good morrow^ Bishop quondam,^' was the attack : " Farewell, knave temper,** 
was the rejdy. Shoreditch ir^s rebuilt about 1731 by the elder Dance; St. 
Botolph's, Aldgate. originally given by the descendants of the thirteen knights 
forming the Knightcn Guild to the Priory ofTrinity, in 1741 ; St. Mary, Whilc- 
chapel, in 1704 \ and St. Alphage or Elphege, one of the churches that escaped 
the fire, in 1777. The porch of St. Alphage, with its sculptured heads and 
pointed arches, is, however, no production of the eighteenth century, but a rem- 
nant of the old Eising Priory. Among the registers of this church we find a 

* Shfw, ' Surv«7,' vd. 1633, p. 173. 



record of those that have certified ihcy have been touched by his Majesty for the 
evil, an occupation that must have accorded but ill with the other modes adopted 
for the disposal of time by Charles IF. But the nujmbcr of persons thus operated 
upon is not the least extraordinary part of the affair; about forty in this one 
parish in the course of a few years : multiply this by any reasonable number that 
shall be thought sufficient to include all the other parishes of England in pro- 
portion to their size and distance, and the product is startling. No wonder that 
it became necessary to regulate such proceedings by public proclamation, or 
Charles would have found that, in his willingness to affect the saint, he would be 
leaving himself no time to practise the sinner. The following bears dale May 
18, 1664 : '* His sacred Majesty having declared it to be his royal will and pur- 
pose to continue the healing of his people for the evil during the month of May, 
and then give over till Michaelmas next, I am commanded to give notice thereof 
that the people may not come up to the town in the interim and lose their 
labour." The foundation of this ehurch, like that of the old church at Greenwich, 
Was probably intended to mark the public feeling as to the memorable event 
that closed the personal history of St. Elphcge. At the time Canterbury was be- 
sieged by the Danes under Thurkil), in 1011. he was archbishop, and distinguished 
himself by the courage with which he defended that city for twenty days against 
their assaults. Treachery, however, then opened the gates, and Elphcge having 
been made prisoner was loaded with chains, and treated with the greatest severity 
in order to make him follow the example of his worthless sovereign Ethelrcd, 
and purchase an ignominious liberty by gold. Greenwich at that time formed 
the Danish head-quarters, whither the archbishop was conveyed. Hure he wa« 
tempted by the offer of a lower rate of ransom ; again and again was he urged 
to yield by every kind of threat and solicitation: "You press me in vain," was 
the noble Saxon's reply ; " I am not the man to provide Christian flesh for 
Pagan teeth, by robbing my poor countrymen to enrich their enemies.** At last, 
the patience of the Danes was worn out : so one day (the 19th of April, 1012) 
they sent for him to a banquet, when their blood was inflamed by wine, and on 
his appearance saluted him with tumultuous cries of " Gold ! gold ! Bishop, give 
us gold, or thou shalt to-day become a public spectacle." Calm and unmoved, 
Elphcge gazed on the circle of infuriate men, who hemmed him in, and who 
presently began to strike him with the flat sides of their battle-axes, and to fling 
at him the bones and horns of the oxen, that had been slain fur the feast. And 
thus he would have been slowly murdered, but for one Thrum, a Danish soldier, 
who had been converted by Elphege, and who now in mercy smote him with the 
edge of his weapon, when he fell dead. A church was subsequently erected to 
his memory over the fatal spot, and another in London^ — probably at the same 
period — the church which led to this brief account of a very interesting historical 

After the erection of such of the fifty churches as were erected, and the re- 
building, as we have just seen, of some of the older ones, there was a remarkable 
pause : during the long period extending from the commencement of the reign 
of George III. down almost to its close there were not (including St. Alphage 
and St. Mary, Whitechapel) six churches erected in the metropolis. In an 
architectural point of view this was fortunate* The Italian-Koinan school had 









been fairly put before the public, and there required time to come to a right 
understanding of its comparative merits with the Gothic, which it superseded 
here, and the purer Grecian and Homan schools^ on which it had raised itself 
at home. The general character of the numerous new churches that now meet 
as on every side in the metropolis, the growth of the last twenty-five years, speaks 
emphatically that the decision has been unfavourable. It was again fortunate 
that after such a period the more eminent architects who assumed the responsible 
position of erecting buildings that, from their very character as well as from 
their metropolitan position, should always be the best the state of the art can 
famish, did not attempt originality, till they had purified their own and the public 
tastes, by familiarity with the long mitiunderstood and misused works of antiquity. 
here can be nothing more certain in art of any kind, than that every permanent 
ivance must be based on a thorough appreciation of the excellence that has 
^nc before. Invaluable, therefore, were the variety of buildings erected in the 
early part of the present century, in which the Grecian orders, the Doric and 
Ionic, were introduced; though no doubt there was plenty of room for improve- 
ment in the mode of the introduction. It is in this light that the beautiful 
church of St Pancras, New Road, ap])ears with even greater interest than its 
exquisite columns and doors alone could give it. This was finished in 1S22; the 
architects were Messrs. W. and H. Inwood, men who had evidently drunk deep 
at the undefilcd well of Athenian architecture. Their building is an avowed 
imitation of the famous temple of Ercchtheion at Athens, one of the most florid 
existing specimens of the Ionic order. Here we began to learn, for the first time, 
Tvhat absurdities had been committed under the shelter of great names. The doors 
in the portico were now found to be an essential beauty of the latter, instead of 
standing out in barbarous discrepancy with it; but then they were very different 
doors from those of St. Martin's in the Fields, and St. Gcorgc^s, Bloomsbury, being, 
at the time of their introduction, perfectly unique in England for beauty. We 
now found, too, that the Greeks had been able to erect a body to their fronts, not 
simply harmonising with, but so essentially forming a part of it, that it is only won- 
derful they should ever have been divided. And how perfectly beautiful that body 
is, with its windows, and sculptured band, and cornice, and rich antcfixcc studding 
as with fret-work the line of roof, and so finely relieved against the sky ! Other 
interesting features of the exterior arc the two projecting porches at the eastern 
extremity of the north and south sides, also imitated from a building attached to 
one side only of the Athenian temple, and called the Pandrosium. This is sup- 
ported by caryatidat female figures, an exceedingly striking and expressive archi- 
tectural feature. 7'hc origin of the use of such figures is attributed, with great 
probability of correctness, to the custom that prevailed among the Athenian 
virgins, of carrying on their heads the sacred vessels used in their religious cere- 
monies. In the Pandrosium there were six figures, at St. Pancras there are but 
four on each range, and they form the chief exception to the general excellence 
of execution visible through all the details of the church. Here is a drawing of 
one of the original figures now forming a part of the invaluable treasures of the 
British Museum. Within each porch a large sarcophagus expresses its purpose 
— it is the entrance to the catacombs, which are very spacious. The steeple is 
imitated from another Grecian work, the Temple of Winds, at Athens, bat 


- nr 

CVmoBlc CAryiUd Figut« tiutu thr I^iuliabua-] 

combines happily with the other parts of the exterior. Judging by analogy 
from the buildings of the last century, where it is really surprising to 
observe how seldom it was attempted to have the Within and the Without 
in harmony of richnrss and decoration, we should be little prepared fur 
ihe interinr of St. Pancras; but the all - pervading feeling of the truest 
artists (with one noticeable exception in later times, the Gothic) that the 
world ever saw, is so powerfully impressed on their buildings, that beauty 
prepares you for beauty, and you are never disappointed. The galleries of St. 
Pancras are, of course, the same as usual — however skilfully adapted to the 
building, — excrescences; but the exquisite form of those columns that support 
them, give the eye plcasanter occupation than to dwell on defects, and when we 
leam their history we are not surprised : they are taken from casts of the Elgin 
marbles. On the remaining features of interest in St. Pancras, the range of 
verd-antique columns with bases and capitals of white marble (from the temple 
of Minerva) over the communion-table, the ground-glass windows with their 



rifWy-staincd borders, the pulpit and reading-desk, conatructed, aa we are told, 
out of the celebrated Fairlop Oak, our space will not permit us to dwell. From 
the foregoing description our readers will be prepared to hear that the cost was 
considerable, namely, 76.679/. 7.t. 8rf. OF the later works in the same style of 
architecture, the little chapel of St. Mark, North Audley Street, finished in 
18*28, deserves especial commendation for its departure from the frigid common- 
place imitations which most of these buildings exhibit. The chaste elegance of 
the still more recently erected building here shown, needs no eulogy. It is by 
PrjfcsBor Hosking, of King's College. 

[Tribity ClifetHlt PopUr.] 

TTicre is one point of view in which these revolutions of taste that mark the 
present and last two centuries^ appear peculiarly striking. A nation, among its 
other priceless bequests to posterity, leaves a perfect system of architecture; 
that system is taken up by another great nation, men of the highest intellectual 
power adapt it to their national views and habits, and add a second system 
scarcely less essentially original in any practical meaning of the word, to the 
vorld's artistical wealth. Now, is it not strange that afler all the skill, learning, 
CDthuftiastn and treasure expended in altering^ adapting, or improving these two 



systems, since the revival of arts and learnui^. that now, in the ninctcenih centurj', 
we arc fuin to go buck (in that direction of the architectural compass) to those 
systems ; nay, we secin not content to stop short with the Roman school, hut, as 
if the very suspicion of adulteration was enough to repel us, go on to the ulti- 
mate point from which we started. And what but the same kind of movement 
is taking place still more energetically with the Gothic, which lay for the same 
period, under an infinitely deeper cloud? It was not simply misunderstood by 
professing admirers; on the contrary, there were scarcely any who thought it 
worthy of admiration. The rc-action of this sentiment must be remembered, 
when we look at the many, and ambitious works that have been erected in this 
style of late years. But afler all allowance on this score, some of these buildings 
present satisfactory evidences of an approach towards a right appreciation on the 
parts of their architects, of the principles of the wonderful buildings they have taken 
for their model. There has been but one truly dark age in England for architecture, 
and that is the period wc have just emerged from : — emerged at least, if the expe- 
rience of that period with regard to the improvements upon the Koman and Greciau 
styles, be not thrown away upon the improvers or adapters of this with regard to 
the pointed. The best security at^ainst this danger wilt be the general diffusion 
amon g the people as well as among architects, of that appreciation we have referred 
to. We have reason, therefore, to congratulate ourselves upon the circumstance 
that so many new churches in the Gothic style have been recently built, as offering ^j 
increased facilities fur the study of the latter, and still more, that in the principal ^| 
of these, purity rather than originality has been the architect's grand aim. I^t 
us but thoroughly understand and enjoy that or any other stjlc, and wc may 
then safely attempt to advance whenever the right men are prepared to lead the ^M 
way. Foremost among the structures calculated to forward these views, stands " 
that which was also earliest in point of time in the present revival of pointed 
architecture in the metropolis— we allude to the New Church at Stepney, erected 
about 182*2 by Mr. Walters, in an exceedingly chaste and beautiful style. This 
was folUwcd by the still more magnificent structure at Chelsea, St. Luke's, by Mr. 
Savage, with a tower at the west end 14*2 feet in height : this building was finished 
in 1824^ or in the same year as that just object of universal ridicule, the church 
of All Souls, witJi its circular advanced tower, and cone spire, in Langham Place : 
a noticeable contrast. St. Kathcrinc's, Regent's Park, consists of two portions, 
the buildings for residence, which are in the old English domestic style, and the 
chapel, which is pointed ; the whole however harmonise, and at the same time 
express very happily the character of the pile as the home of a once religious 
community. St. Katherine's forms a remarkable exception to the rule for the 
dissolution of religious houses; a good fortune which it seems to have derived 
from its having been first founded by a Queen, Matilda, wife of Stephen, and 
then refounded by Elinor, widow of Henry III., who made it an especial appa- 
nage to the Queens of England. Phillppa, wife of Edward, was also a great 
benefactress, as we are reminded by the excellent carvings of her head and the 
King's, still preserved with the ancient stalls they decorate, and the very curious 
old pulpit, in the chapel. There was formerly a Guild attached to St. Katha- 
rine b, dedicated to St. Barbara, of which great numbers of eminent persons were 
members; from Henry VIH. and his wife downwards. In the Hospital itselC 







Verstegan, the author of the ' Restitution of Decayed Antiquities.' was born, and 
Raymond LuUy wrote his IhsUtmeritum Aovinximum. Many distinguished persona 
were also buried in the old church or preciucta. The only monument that re- 
mains IB the Duko of Exeter's, 1447, with the effigies of that nobleman and his 
two wives; an interesting specimen of ancient monumental sculpture. In con- 
nexion with this memorial Mr. Brayley mentions a very disgraceful circumstance 
that occurred in the pulling down of the old church of St. Kathcrine (for tho 
erection of the docks to which it has given name) ; the tomb was opened and tho 
remains dispersed ; titc head, it appears, passed into the possession of the dock- 
■urveyor. The establishment now consists, we belicvc» of a master, three brothers, 
three listers, ten bedeswomcn, a registrar, high bailiff, &c. Several other modern 
Gothic buildings deserve especial mention^ which our space compels us to pass by ; 
of two of these we give engravings, namely, St. Peter's, Bankside. 1840, here 
shown, and SU Mary's, Southwark, 1842^ placed at the beginning of our number. 

St. Dunstan*B in the West demands a few additional words, if it be only for its 
past fame- Who does not remember its clock, and the clubmen who struck the 
hours and quarters on the bell suspended between them, and the eternal crowd 
of gazers on the opposite side of the street, waiting for the moment of action? 
Yet not all their popularity saved them from being turned off with contumely 
at last; fortunately there was one man of taste to appreciate them, though that 
man were the late Marquis of Hertford, to whose villa in Regent's Park, wo 
believe, they were removed. Old St. Dunstan's had a kind of literary reputation 
J»o; Mr. Bray Icy in his * Londiniana,' gives us the title-pages of certain books, 
published about the beginning of the seventeenth century, as ' ^Epigrams by 
H. P.* ' News from Italy of a Second Moses/ the 'Blazon of Jealousy,' &c.. 



which show that at least four different booksellers had shops in the churchyard, 
one of them '* under the dial.** The church was rebuilt about 1833, from the 
designs of Mr. Shaw, the architect of Christ's Hospital^ who died, as we learn 
from a tablet over the entrance, on the 12th day after its completion. It must 
have been a satisfaction, even in the dying hour, to feel that such a work itag 
completed. The tower, 130 feet high, is an exceedingly picturesque composi* 
tiou. and the interior is no less distinguished for its general elegance of style and 
richness of decoration. That the latest in point of time of the modem Gothic 
structures of London, which is in fact unfinished — we allude to Christ Church, 
Westminster — should also promise to be the most beautiful, may be received, 
we hope, as a sign of the progress we are making in the grandest of the arts 
in its grandest form. 









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W^un ! 













fChilM CbUKh, *etnUMMf.J 







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ll'i1ticti«l Pmil at (tw lluTM Miunl».J 


Without flattery, the Horse Guards may be said to be one of the uglieet buildings] 
in her Majesty's service. Barracks are rarely considered models of architectural 
beauty; and it ia questionable whether any barracks in the three kingdoms — 
even the monstrosity which disfigures Edinburgh Castle — can ecjual in ugliness 
the Horse Guards. I'hc National Gallery may be admitted to hold rivalry in 
this respect with the Offices of Secretar)' at War and Commander-in-Chief; but 
as it was built by a British Academician, fur British Academicians, what else 
could be expected ? 

The Horse Guards — that is, the building so called in familiar conversation — 
was built about the middle of last century by Vardy, after a design by Kent. 
Thai was a time when people in this cuuntry appear to have had a vague notion 
that there was a thing called architecture which was admired by those who under- 
stood it ; that Italian architecture, in particular, was highly esteemed ; and that 
in Italian architecture there were pavilions and cupolas, basements, and what not. 
Such an age of ignorance and imbecility was precisely the one in which a bad 
copier of indifferent prints, like Kent, might pass himself off for an architect, 
and his copies for architectural designs. In justice to Vardy, it ought to be re- 
marked that his mason-work is well enough. But as for the architectural pre- 
tensions of the Horse Guards, the moss-grown buttresses of the Treasury look 
like a Melrose Abbe>' beside it; the Admiralty (bating the screen) and the Pay 

tOb- V. V 



Office arc mere houses, and pretend to be nothing more, so do not offend ; and 
even the pseudo-Hellenism of the Board of Trade looks respectable beside it. 
How ashamed Whitehall must feel of its neighbours! 

After all, the Horse Guards is but a shell : it is what is going on within it, 
and the anxious hopes and fears of which it is the centre, and the wonder-working 
orders that have in times past issued from it, that make us pause to regard it. 

Not but that there are attractions here for the most unreflecting sightseer. 
Those two seemly troopers on their powerful chargers, who, with burnished 
cuirass and carbine on knee, sit motionless as statues in the niches of the two 
overgrown sentry boxes for two hours on a stretch (they commence those 
sittings at ten a.m.. and arc relieved every two hours, until four p.m., when 
their sentry duties terminate for the day), arc figures that can scarcely be 
|jassed without attracting a glance of admiration. And there is generally a numer- 
ous collection of blackguard boysj members of parliament, crossings-sweepers and 
out-of-ofHcc cabmen, occupants of stools in government offices, and orange- 
women — in short, of all the professional frequenters of this part of the town — 
eoUected to watch the rather striking ceremony of changing guard. The folding 
Joora, in the rear of the stone sentry boxes aforesaid, are thrown open, two 
cuirassed and helmctcd heroes, on sleek snorting steeds that might bear a man 
through A summer day's tourney or through a red field of battle without ilagging, 
ride in, and, upon the philosophical principle that no two bodies can co-exist in 
the same space, push the living statues already there out in front, who, each de- 
scribing a semicircle, meet and ride side by side through the central gate, and so 
back to their stables. 

ThisGuard is part of the Quecn*8 Guard, more especialiy so called from being 
mounted within the precincts of the palace. The movements of the Queen's 
Guard of the Household Brigade of Cavalry are regulated nominally by the 
" Gold Stick in Waiting '* (that is to say, by one of the Colonels of the two regi- 
ments of Life Guards nnd of the '* Blues "), but virtually by their Lieutenant 
Colonel, who is technically termed the " Silver Stick in Waiting," and who, as 
well as the Gold Stick, is relieved every alternate month. The movements of 
the Queen's Guard, belonging to the Household Infantry, are under the super- 
intendence of the *• Field Officer in Waiting," who is always on duty at the Horse 
Guards. Ho also is on duty for a month, and relieved by the next of equal rank 
in order on the roll, which commences with the Grenadiers. 

The barracks in Loudon where the Foot Guards arc stationed are : — The Wel- 
lington Barracks, in the Bird-cage Walk ; the Portman Street Barracks, io 
Portman Street ; the St. George's Barracks, Trafalgar Square ; St. John's Wood 
Barracks J Kensington Barracks (a small detachment); and a battalion in the 
Tower. The cavalry barracks are at Knightsbridge and the Kegent^s Park. 
All orders concerning all the Guards in London are given out by the field-officer 
on duty at the Horse Guards. For example, should any of them be wanted on 
an emergency, the Commander-in-Chief communicates with him, nnd he arranges 
what regiment is to supply the detachment required. Of course, he makes his 
election in the order of the roster. 

The Guard commonly called the Queen's (or King's) Guard are — 1st. One 
Captain, one Lieutenant, and one Ensign at the Palace of St. James's, which 



19 conaidcred a ioi-t of head quarters. 2nd. One aubaltern at Buckingham 
Houso 3rd. One Captain and two Subalterns at the Tilt Yard — for that 
*>ame, associated with the stately toume3'a of the ages of KUzaheth and 
rienry VIII., still survives^ — attached to the site of the Horse Guards. The 
officers in the Guards, it is well known, have rank in the army above what they 
bold in their regiments ; but when on duty among themselves, the subalterns, that 
is, the Lieutenants and Ensigns, do all that appertains to those of the same 
nominal rank in regiments of the line. These three Guards supply the sentinels 
■tattoned at Buckingham and Storey's Gates, at the various Government Offices, 
at the entry from Sjiring Gardens into St. James's Park, at the Duke of York's 
Column, all round St. Jamess Palace, and about Buckingham House. 

The guard at St. James's is the only one that mounts always with the Queen's 

I colours. At all other guards — even guards of honour, unless it be for a crowned 

Pkead — they mount with the colours of the regiment. 

With the most showy and ceremonious mounting of a guard in England at 
St. James's Palace — with the less gorgeous but, perhaps, more ini])osing relief 
of the guard at the Horse Guards — with the close proximity of the Wellington 
and St. George's Barracks — vritli the marching and countermarching of the 
guards drawn from the cavalry barracks— with the marching of the infantry 
from the barracks above-named to drill or inspection in Hyde Park, the precincts 
of the Palace afford, of a forenoon, the most stirring military spectacle (apart 
from a regular review), to be seen in the kingdom. Within and around this 
region, tlie Guards — foot and horse — are the cliaractcristic features of the scene, 
the real ffenii /oct— and fine-looking fellows they arc. As to their accoutrements, 
a uniform must be judged less as it tells upon the individual soldier than as it 
tells <7i mav.vf upon a large body of men. But even upon individuals, the uni- 
form of the Guards sliows well. Somewhat ponderous and stiff they may be, but 

Lihat be8])eaks strength and discipline. The Blues too, in their enormous jack- 
l>oots, when seen sauntering along on foot, remind us in this of swans, or n 
kindred B|>ccies of bird, that they are fine-looking creatures in their element, but 
helpless out of it. They contrast, however, most favourably with the fantastic 
frippery of hussars and lancer regiments. They arc substantial and genuine 
English. One can imagine Marlborough and Ligonier viewing them com- 
placently : they are in keeping with the athletic image of Shaw, who with his 
own arm slaughtered so many Frenchmen at Waterloo. 

A soldier's is not an idle life, even in time of peace, whatever may be said to 
the contrary. His martial duties may appear trifling to those who know not the 
importance of keeping them a habit, but they consume much time and no little 
attention. Still, an officer in the Guards must, to a certain extent, be, while in 
London, a gay lounger. His position in society — the vicinities into which his 
duties carry him — keep him in close juxta-position with the gay world, and it is 
the easiest thing in nature, when he has but one spare moment, to drop into 
the dissipations of fashion for that brief space. Still, in the dead season, the town 
must seem a desert to him, and banishment to the Tower, a fate which ho must 
be prepared to encounter at regular intervals, is tedium in the extreme. But 
he has bis resources — the Guards' Club, and the dinners at St. James's and the 




Into the former wc presume not to penetrate : a gentleman'* club-house is his 
home, where he is entitled to shut the door on all strangers and hint to those 
admitted — '* .tub rof^n*^ The dinners may he said in a manner to be at John Bull's 
expense, and John thinks he has a right to know how his money is spent. He 
has no reason to complain on the present occasion. 

The subaltern at Buckingham Palace, the Captain and two Subalterns at the 
Horse Guards, and the Field Officer. Captain, and Subaltern at the head guard, 
dine together at St. James's. The Adjutant of the regiment which gives the guard 
dines with them if he feel disposed, and the Lieutenant Colonel has the privilege of 
inviting three friends. Any day on which he docs not avail himself of this privi- 
lege, he gives it up to the other officers. Not belonging to the Leg of Mutton, 
or to the Noctea Ambrosianip, or to the Cervantes schools of literature, wc could 
at any time much more easily eat a good dinner than describe it; the reader, 
therefore, must hold us excused. The Guards' dinners at St. James's are of 
ancient standing, and it is a shame that now-a-days, when military men have be- 
taken themseU'es to writing like their neighbours, none of their traditions have 
been given to the public. It is a thousand pities Miss Burncy was not a guards- 
man : the records of the mess would have furnished forth much more inspiring 
incidents than the Frau Schwellenberg's dinners to the Equerries, at which *' dear 
little" Fanny presided as vice-bedchamber-woman. To Gilray are we indebted 
for the only peep into the symposia of the Guards at St. James's with which the 
public has been favoured ; and until some member of the corps takes up the pen 
to show that his predecessors could talk, joke, and sing to the purpose, the cor]:>s 
must be contented to be judged by that caricature. 

The dinner at the Bank — but first a word of the Tower, " whither, at ccrtam 
•easons, all the" guards are conveyed to do penance for a time for their jun- 
keltings at the other end of the town. There is generally, as has already been 
remarked, a battalion on duty here. The officer locally in command is called 
the Governor, but his actual rank is that of Tower or Fort Major only. All 
orders applying to the Tower exclusively, or as a garrison, such as parade for 
divine service, Sec, arc given by the Fort Major; but all other orders, such as 
the actual mounting of the guard, the Bank piquet, &c., come from the Field 
Officer on duty at the Horse Guards. The guard at the Tower is, as at the 
Palace, an ofRcer s guard, and so is the piquet at the Bank, to which we now 

Dinner is provided by the Bank for the officer on guard there and two friends. 
A snug, plain, excellent dinner it is, brought daily from one of the best taverns 
in the neighbourhood. The store which the Guards set by this dinner — 
excellent though it be — speaks volumes for the ennui which broods over the 
period during which they are stationed at the Tower. Some time ago a regi- 
ment of the line was marched into the Tower, and the battalion of Guards 
withdrawn. All the other duties of the place were gladly and unreluctantly 
given up to the new-comers with the solitary exception of the inlying piquet 
at the Bank. The duty might have been given up, but to relinquish the 
dinner was impossible. And on this account, so long as the Tower remained 
denuded of the presence of the Guards, the Bank piquet, regularly detailed from 
the far West End, duly and daily threaded the crowded Strand, passed under 



Temple Bar, jostled along Fleet Street, scrambled up Ludgate Hill, rounded 
St. PauTs, and over Cheapside, erst the scene of tournaments, charged home to 
the Bank of England. The cynosure of attractiun to the weary sub on duty — 
the magnet which drew him to encounter this long and toilsome march, and 
worse, the incarceration of four-and-twenty mortal hours within the walls of the 
Bank, w^ not the ingots piled within these walls— bis high spirit disdained 
them; not the bright eyes of City maid or dame — these must now be sought in 
the suburbs ; it was the substantial savoury fare of the City — the genuine roast 
beef of Old England, and the City's ancient port, far surpassing the French 
cookery and French wines of St. James's. 

But rich and substantial though the feast provided for the red-coated dragon 
(as Mause Headrigg might have termed him), who guarded the golden fruit of 
their Hcsfieridcs, by the merchant princes of the Bank of England, its merifa 
were heightened in the estimation of the young guardsmen by the circumstances 
under which it was eaten. After a dreary banishment to the Tower for montha 
— after the weariest period of that dull service, the dreary day, spent within the 
walls of the Bank — it is easy to conceive the relief felt by a young soldier as 
bis moodiness relaxed and opened under the influence of good fare and good wine, 
and the chat of two favourite companions. Engagements that might have 
looked common-place elsewhere, and under other circumstances, were Elysium 
there and then. What a moment was that, when the hour of shutting the gates 
approaching, his visitors must leave him 1 The sweetest minute of the evening 
— he tasted it not in the bustle of leave taking, but, like all sweets approached to 
the mouth and withdrawn untasted, it lived for ever unchanged in remembrance. 
Such another moment is the five minutes before twelve at the St. James's dinner, 
when the butler enters, and with sly unconsciousness announces the hour, and 
the decanters are sent hastily round (no " black buttles *' there), the glasses 
emptied and replenished, and a new supply ordered in — the last that can be 

|inued from cellarage or butlery that night 

r Amid the not unpleasing but somewhat monotonous hours of the life of an officer 
of the Guards on duty in London, these two dinners occupy a large space in his 

Lamagination. They are like the holidays to which a school-boy looks forward and 
backward ; great part of his year is made up of them. He dates from their 
recurrence. Only one other dinner has ever held the same place in the estimation 
of Guardsmen — and its place was far higher. The Duke of York, when Com- 
mander in- Chief, was frequently in the habit of dining at the Horse Guards on 
those days — and they were many — when he transacted business there. On such 
occasions it was his unvarying practice to invite the officer on guard to his table; 
and it has been our lot to hear a veteran who has seen much of life— from the 
gay quarters of London to the plague-stricken sands of Egypt — speak long after- 
wards of these dinners as amung the most pleasing recollections of his life. The 
Duke of York was not, like his eldest brother, " the first gentleman in Europe " 
— he did not affect the society of wits, or shine himself in repartee — but he had 

rtt heart, and that was felt and acknowledged by every one who came into close 
connection with him. Spoiled he might be to some extent by his station — who 
would not? Grosxier he might be in his tastes — it was the family failing. But 
he was kind to the last^ and had a strong sense of justice. As a leader in the 



fioldj though personally brave, he did not shine; hut as Commander-in-Chief, 
as the organiser and upholder of an anny in the Cabinet, England owes him a 
deep debt of gratitude. He was to the army what another Prince who bore the 
same title was, rather more than a century earlier, to the navy. fl 

According to Fielding, Mrs. Bennet ajjologised to Amelia for inviting Serjeant 
Atkinson to take a cup of tea with her, by alleging that a serjeant in the (iuards 
was a gentleman. The non-coramiasioncd officers^ and, wc may say at the same 
time, the privates of these regiments retain the character to the present day. 
Bating his plundering and torturing propensities, Serjeant Bothwell, could he 
come alive again, would not find himself out of place among them. In former days, 
at Angelo's Rooms, wc used to think the demeanour of the Household Cavalry 
quite as gentlemanly as some individuals of higher station, with whom they conde- 
scended to play at single-stick, and in the Fives Court the fancy Guardsmen were 
decidedly more gentlemanly than the pugilistic amateurs of rank. The British 
soldier of our days — and this remark is general, applicable to the whole army — is 
not a mere ignoramus. The regimental libraries have worked a wonderful change. 
We remember few more pleasant half-houra than one we spent in Mr. Constables 
Miscellany warehouse in Edinburgh, listening to the comments of a committee of 
non-commissioned oflRrers, from a regiment stationed at Picrshill Barracks, who 
had come to town to choose some additions to their library. A higher and more 
uniform tone pervades the ranks nuw than used to bo the case. It is a gross 
mistake to imagine the British soldier the mere machine some Gallicised writers 
have been pleased to represent him. There lurks a great deal of fallacy in what 
is said about the deterioration of the British soldier under "the cold shade of 
aristocracy." There are men by nature formed to take the direction, and others 
equally furnicd by nature to work out directions given to them. In the rudest 
slate of society each class finds in time its proper place. Organised, civilised 
society is merely a condition in which the combination of two such dilTerent 
classes has long been recognised, and in which the persons qualified to belong to 
cither drop into their places at once. A person born with capacity for command 
will, in ordinary circumstances, either enter the army as an officer, or, if he can- 
not accomplish this, choose some other profession. There is nothing necessarily 
low or mean in occupying the subordinate station. On the contrary, there arc 
qualities required to enable a man to fill a subordinate station with perfect 
efficiency, which, from the rarity of their occurrence, in a high degree lend an 
extraordinary value to them when they do occur. It is much more easy to fill a 
regiment with passable ensigns, lieutenants, aud captains, than with good efficient 
non-commissioned officers. This is felt by the best commanding officers, and 
Buch men arc valued in proportion. Consciousness of their own worth, inspiring 
a just pride in belonging to their class, makes them a kind of natural aristo- 
cracy. The good soldier is not without a legitimate field of ambition, and the 
peculiar character of this field makes better soldiers than the vague dreaming 
prospect of becoming a Junot. SteeK', in one of the best of his Tatlers, illustrates 
the high spirit and honourable ambition of the British serjeant : Farquhar's Kite 
(an irregular man of genius) was even then the exception, not the rule. The 
privates and non-commissioned officers of the Guards share this honest ambition 
with the regiments of the line, and, with all due deference to the latter, their 






poBitioa as appendages to royalty gives them Avhat Dr. O'Toole might call, the 
'' top polish." Mrs. Bcnnct was right : a serjcant in the Guards is a gcntlcinaD, 
and she at least proved the sincerity of her opinion by taking the scrJeant for a 
husband and becoming Mrs. Atkinson. 

But Bomo people will have it that the Guards, one and all, are mere pampered 
loungers. Did they show themselves such at Waterloo? The truth is, that 
soldiers, like race-horses and fighting- cocks, are the better for being high fed and 
well dressed, or curry-combed. There is no greater delusion than that constant 
hard work and privation strengthen men against hardships. There is a certain 
limited time, during which human powers of exertion and endurance can. be 
taxed without breaking down ; and the better condition a man is in at starting, 
the longer he will hold out. The mora/e, too, as Buonaj>artc used to say, is 
nine-tenths of the soldiers* strength; and the morale of ill-fed, over-toiled men is 
always bad. There is a buoyancy of spirit about those who rush straightway 
from good, even luxurious, quarters to the field, that effects even more than their 
brawny frames. " But Hannibal's army at Capua ! " Fudge ! The poor rascals 
were half rotten with toil and famine, and killed or sickened themselves by repletion. 
It waa sheer good eating that carried the Guards rough-shod over Napoleon's crack 
Cuirassiers — red cloth and roast-beef, against steol cuirass and soupc-maigre, car- 
riud the day. All Continental soldiers, who have ever measured bayonet or sabre 
with the British, know that it is impossible to withstand the charge of our well- 
fed men and horses. It has often made us laugh to hear our German militai'y 
friends — brave, judicious men — arguing that English soldiers were too high-fed : 
it was impossible to keep either brute — the man or the beast — in hand. German 
troopers, and their steeds, were fed up to the right pitch — could be exercised 
among eggs without breaking one. They knew all the while that this martinet 
dexterity would be shivered in pieces the moment it came in contact with the 
ungovernable strength thoy affected to undervalue. This is the reason why, from 
the club-houses and saloons of St. James's, and from the Fives' Court and other 
places of more equivocal resort, men and officers of the Guards— men who had 
never seen a shot fired in anger — rushed straight to Waterloo and rode resist* 
less over the tough veterans of a hundred fights. " Gallant Frenchmen," the 
heroes of old " Nulli Secundus " might have said, " not by us, but by our cook- 
shops, ha\'c ye been vanquished! " 

Knough of this. But as the building we have now in hand is one of those of 
which '* least said is soonest mended," we have preferred talking about its live 
stock. Its halls are occupied by persons who think themselves of more conse- 
quence, and might take it amiss if they were altogether passed over in silence. 
Here arc the offices of the Commander-in-Chief, the Military Secretary, the 
Quarter-Master-General, and Secretary at War; in other words, here is the 
*' local habitation '* of those who wield the gallant army of Great Britain. 

Some time ago — it propov of the Admiralty--we had occasion to point out tho 
admirable systematic arrangements which lurked under its apparent want ol 
system. Looking to the Horse Guards, we fear it must be admitted that the 
want of centralised authority is in the case of the army carried to an extreme. 
The army is an engine not yet so well understood and appreciated in England as 
the navy. It is younger by a good many years. The Guards of Charles II. 



and James II., that is to say, ttc " Blues," no more deserve the name 
of an army than the " Ironsides" of Old Noll. We have regiments which 
date from before the Revolution, but no army. The army is not only of 
modern growth when compared with the navy, but it differs from that sturdy 
indigenous plant in being an aeclimatlaed exotic. They were foreign mon» 
archs — one Dutch and two Hanoverian kings — who made our army, and they 
made it after foreign models. Uaw materials for an army of the best quality 
are, and always have been, abundant in this country, but these foreign artists 
were the first to work them up. And as, unfortunately for the art of war, this 
country has afforded few opportunities of experimental study since wc had an 
army, most of our great soldiers have been obliged to practise on the Continent. 
The theory and prattice of modem warfare has been developed by Frenchmen, 
Germans, and Italians. Our army is like our school of painting. — at this moment 
equal, if not superior, to any in Europe, but not of so natural a growth as in the 
continental states. Down to the beginning of the reign of George 111., our great 
oflficers were as foreign as the cut of their uniforms. In short, the real British 
army is scarcely so old as its very modern head-quarters ; for the Ligoniers and 
Marquis of Granbys, who dated their general-orders from Knightsbridge Bar- 
racks,* we look upon as Hanoverian officers. Abcrcromby, with whom soldiers 
now alive have shaken hands, was trained in this school ; he studied law and the 
humanities at Leipzig, and tactics (experimentally J in the Seven Years* War. 
This has been the main cause of scattering the fragments of military manage- 
ment through so many different departments of state, and producing such a con- 
fusion and contest of authorities as we shall now attempt to illustrate. The King 
and Parliament were always scrambling for the management of the army, and 
with every new department added to make it more efficient, there was a toss up 
for which should have the control of it. 

The Commander-in-Chief and the Master-General of the Ordnance have im- 
mediate and independent management of their respective portions of the armed 
force of the country. But, in addition to them, no less than six different depart* 
ments of government have various duties committed to them connected with the 
administration of military affairs. These are: — 1st, the Secretaries of State, 
more particularly the Secretaries for the Colunial and Home Departments ; 
2nd, the Secretary at War ; 3rd, the Board of Ordnance ; 4th, the Commiasariat 
department of the Treasury ; 5th, the Board of Audit ; Cth, the Commissioners 
of Chelsea Hospital. We shall endeavour to point out as briefly as possible the 
peculiar functions of each of those classes of authorities, and the means b}' which 
so many heterogeneous and independent functionaries are brought to work 
together with something like harmony and effect. 

The point of view from which we must set out, and which, in order to thread 
our way through this labyrinth, we must keep constantly in mind, is. that the 
army belongs to the King. Parliament gives it to him, or rather, it every year 
gives him the means of maintaining it for a year, but here the power and right 
of Parliament to interfere with the management of the army stops. The whole 

* Not tita barraclti now known by that nam^^ but the bu'iMIng at tbe opfimit^ rnd of Kntg))(8l>nt1g)>, on Hm 
GPfrfKMit* tide of th« road, now effectuall^r luseueil fttmi public riew by Mr. Dutin'i ChtiieM «xbibi(igu ou 
i)d« and t OBT cfaurdi g» Uw othtr. 









pcwer and control over the army is vestoJ in the Crowm — that \s, more especially 
•ince the Revolution settlement of 1688 — in the Kings government, represented 
in the Cabinet by the Secretaries of State. It is scarcely necessary, except for 
the aake of distinctness, to remind the reader that there was originally only 
one Secretary of Slate; and that though coni'enience first introduced 
the custom of having one Secretary who confined his attention exclusively 
to foreign, and another who confined himself to home affairs — and although 
in 1758 a third Secretary, for the colonies, was appointed, to divide the labuur 
and responsibility, yet still, most of the functions of Secretary of State may be, 
and occasionally are, exercised indifferently by any one of the three. In point of 
fact, however, the Secretary for Foreign Affairs never meddles with the war 
department — that is left to the Home and Colonial Secretaries. The military 
administration of the nation in all its political bearings is, in reality, vested in 
these two ministers. The Secretary of State for the Home Department has 
the control and management of all the militia and yeomanry, as well as the dis- 
posal of the troops of the line at home, and the Guards. According to the 
necessities of the service, he orders the army to be moved into a disturbed dis- 
trict ; he conveys his orders through the Quarter-Master-General to the general 
officers who are immediately under his guidance ; he informs them how they are 
to act in conjunction with the magistracy, not only in cases of disturbances, but 
under any cases that may arise. He directs, through the instrumentality of the 
Master-General of the Ordnance, forts to be built un the coast in time of war, or 
barracks in disturbed districts. The Secretary of State for the War department 
and Colonics has the command of the army abruad. In those weak piping times 
of peace he not only orders what proportion of troops shall be sent to each colony, 
but he approves of the appointment of the general officer who is to command 
tbem i in short, he has the control over the army for all purposes of State policy. 
He may order a fort or battery to be built in ttny colony in consequence of its 
disturbed or exposed state. The offices of these wielders of the destinies of 
armies must be sought not here, but in Downing Street. 

The administration of the army under the Secretaries of State, or the Crown, 
whose representatives these ministers arc, is entrusted to executive officers who 
are appointed to, and receive their orders directly from, the King or his Secre- 
taries. The finance of the army is kept rigidly separated from its discipline and 
promotion: the financial arrangements are the business of the Secretary at War; 
the discipline and promotion, of the Commander-in-Chief as regards the House- 
hold Brigade, Cavalry and Line, and of the Master General of the Ordnance. 
Two of these demigods of the army exercise their functions here. 

The financial arrangt-ments of the army, as a system, the exclusii'e control over 
the public money voted for military purposes, rests with the Secretary at War, 
who transacts business at the Horse Guards. The office was established in 1666. 
Mr, Locke, the First Secretary at War appointed in that year. an officer de- 
tached from the Secretary of State's office. The Secretary at War has access to 
the Sovereign, and takes his orders from his Majesty direct. He jireparcs and 
submits the army estiniates, and the annual mutiny bill to Purliament, and 
frames the articles of war. The expenditure of sums granted by Parliament for 
the exigencies of the army takes place by warrants on the Paymaster General, 

■ignod by the Secretary at War. In every regiment there is a paymaster not 
appointed by, nor under the control of the Commander-in-Cbiof, bat under tho 
control oT the Secretary at War. The accounts of the regimental paymasters, 
and of other officers charged with the payment of other branches of the service, 
are examined and audited in the War Office. The insertion of all military ap- 
pointments and promotions in the * Gazette' pass through the Secretary at War, 
because they involve a pecuniary outlay, and he is the channel for obtaining the 
authority of the Secretary of State for issues of arms by the Ordnance when 
required by the military authorities. In concert with the Commander-in-Chief, 
and with consent of the Treasury, he may from time to time make alterations in 
the rates of pay, half-pay, allowances and pensions. By ancient usage the 
Secretary at War, aided by the Judge- Advocate- General, is. in the House of 
Commons, the mouth-piece of the Government to sustain any attack that may l>c 
made on the Commander-in-Chief or his office. 

The Commander-in-Chief has his office at the Horse Guards also. He, too, 
has access to the King, and may cither receive orders direct from him or from the 
Secretary of State. He has always been held a simply executive, not a ministerial 
officer; for the officers of the army are extremely anxious to have nothing to do 
with the handling of money. The business of the Commander-in-Chiefs office is 
dispatched by an Adjutant-General and a Quarter-Master-General, with their 
subordinate functionaries. Both of these officers are appointed by the King on 
the recommendation of tho Commander-in-Chief. The Adjutant-General has 
under him a Deputy Adjutant General, an Assistant and a Deputy Assistant 
Adjutant-General, appointed also by the King, and a number of clerics, mes- 
sengers. &c. appointed by himself. Everything relating to the effective or 
non-effective state of the troops ; to formation, instruction and discipline ; to the 
direction and inspection of the clothing and accoutrements of the army ; to 
recruitments, leaves of absence ; to the employment of officers of the Rtaff; and 
to ordinary or extraordinary returns relative to other matters, falls under his 
department. All regulations and instructions to the army are published through 
this officer by direction of the Commander-in-Chief. The Adjutant-General 
prepares monthly, for the King and Commander in Chief, returns of the troops 
stationed in Great Britain or Ireland, and of the home and foreign force. The 
principal duties of the Quarter-Master-General are, to prescribe routes and 
marches, to regulate the embarkation and disembarkation of troops, to provide 
quarters for them, to mark out ground proper for encampments, to execute mili- 
tary surveys, and to prepare plans and arrange dispositions for the defence of a 
territory, whether such defence is to be cflccted by the troops alone or by means 
of field-works. Attached to the office of Quarter-Mastcr-General of the Forces 
is a board of topography, with a depot of maps, plans, and a library con- 
taining the best military works that have been published in different countries. 
Every British aniiy, when in the field, has a special Quartcr-Maater-Gcncral and 
staff, organised in exact analogy with that of the permanent officer at the Horse 

We mnst now turn our steps towards Pall Mall, and visit the Ordnance Office, 
in order to ])ro»cculc our analysis of the composite organisation of the British 
army. The Master-General of the Ordnance stands in the same relation to the 







Kingr and Secretaries of Stale, in his department, as the Commander-in-Chief. 
Like that officer and the Secretary at War, he has access to the Sovereign, and 
lakes his orders direct from the King or his Secretaries of State. This is a very 
complicated department : it combines within itself both civil and military func- 
ktions, which arc not separated as in the army of the line, and has moreover taken 
"on its hands since the peace a great number of other departments. This com- 
plexity is in a great measure unavoidable, for the Ordnance combines scientific 
with mere professional services. The Master-General, however, directs person- 
ally* and without the assistance of the Board, all those matters which, in the case 
of the rest of the army, come within the province of the Commander-in-Chief. 
All military appointments, all questions of discipline and orders relating to the 
employment of the force come under this description ; and likewise the general 
direction and government of the Military Academy at Woolwich. The Master- 
General of the Ordnance has the title and powers of Colonel of what is called 
the *• regiment " of Artillery — absurdly enough^ for the body is increased in 
time of war to 24,000 men. An officer with the title of Deputy Adjutant 
General of Artillery, who is in no way dependent on the Adjutant General of the 
British forces, is at the head of the Artillery StaflT. The Board of the Deputy 
Adjutant General of Artillery is at Woolwich ; which may be considered as the 
head-quarters of this arm of the service. The Royal Artillery corps consists of 
the Brigade of Horse Artillery and of the Artillery serving on foot. The Rocket 
corps is attached to, and forms part of the Artillery ; as also the Artificers, and 
the Royal Waggon Train. There was formerly a corps of Drivers: but the men 
arc now always enlisted as " Gunners and Drivers," and made to do duty in both 
eapacitics. As the army of tho line was developed under the auspices of the 
Dutch and Hanoverian Kings of England— squabbling all the while with a jea- 
lous and niggardly Parliament — from the few regiments of Guards niaiutaincd 
by the last Stuarts (or engrafted upon them, if the readers think the metaphor 
more just) ; so the Ordnance department haSj in due course of time, been, after 
the same fashion, eked out from the old Artillery Companies of Queen Bess and 
other antique Sovereigns. Perhaps, however, the Worshipful Artillery Com- 
pany of the City of London may claim to be the legitimate descendant and repre- 
sentative of the body commanded by theUarl of Essex in 15%. The first warrant 
fixing the constitution of the Ordnance is that of Charles H. (20th July, 1683), 
only five years previous to the Revolution, 

The corps subject to the Ordnance are the "Regiment," already described, and 
the Engineers. The books of the Artillery show the number of battalions and com- 
panies in each battalion from the year 1710 to the present time. There arc, we 
beUere, no authentic documents to show how long the Royal Engineers have existed 
as a separate corps, or what was its original constitution; but from a warrant 
dated at " our Court of St. James's, the 3rd day of March. 1759," the origin of its 
j)rcsent organisation mny be inferred. The document runs thus ; — " His Majesty 
this day took the said rey»rc8cntation into his royal consideration, together with 
the exlublLikment of Eiiqlnrcrs now svbjHsling ; and likewise the new establishment, 
proposing to increase the number of Engineers to sixty-one; and was pleased, 
with advice of his Privy Council, to approve of the said new cstabblishment, &c 


cease and 
called the 
Artillery ' 

and instead of all former estahlishments of Engineers, which are to 
be discontinued for the future." The Hurse Brigade — commonly 
Horse Artillery, or Flying Artillery — only dates from 1793- The 
Regiment " was composed, in 1710, of one battalion, divided into three 
: the officers were a Colonel Commandant, a Colonel, two Lieutenant 
Colonels, and a Major; for each company a Captain and a First and Second Lieu- 
tenant j six Lieuttnant Fireworkers, an Adjutant, Quartermaster, and Bridge- 
master. The names of all the officers since I74;i have been preserved, and notes 
of what became of most of ihem. The Engineers consisted, in 1759, of one 
Chief, two Directors, four Sub Directors, twelve Engineers in Ordinary and 
twelve Extraordinary, fourteen Sub-Engineers, and sixteen Practitioners : the 
names of the Engineer officers since I7b3. The privates were called Military 
Engineers till ISI.'J; since that time they have been organised into a corps called 
Sappers and Miners. The whole of the Engineer department is under the 
Inspector-General of Fortifications. Both the civil and military engineering of 
the army is entrusted to this corps. The erection and maintenance of forts and 
barracks devolves upon them. There aro *29of the officers engaged in the survey 
of Great Britain and Ireland. Of *20l officers, 150 were, in 1836, employed in 
affairs which were partly of a military, partly of a civil character. The Engineers 
are, properly speaking, a regiment of officLTS ; but attached to it are the com- 
panies of sappers and miners, with the pontoon train, its forges, waggons, &c., 
under a major of the Brigade of Engineers. 

The Board of Ordnance, enumerated as the third of those which take part in 
mannging the military affairs of this country, takes upon it those duties which arc 
more especially termed civi/. The Master- General attends its meetings only on 
rrtre and very particular occasions. All its proceedings, however, are regularly 
submitted in the form of minutes for his approval, and are subject to his control. 
His authoriiy is supreme in all matters, both civil and military ; and ho, not the 
Board, is conitidcred responsible for the manner in which the business of the 
dei'artment is managed. The three Board officers of the Ordnance are the 
Surveyor-General, the Clerk of the Ordnance ^at Pall Mall), and the principal 
Storpkeeper. Sumetimcs the whole of these officers — uniformly the Clerk — 
contrive to be in Parliament, and act as the mouth-pieces of this arm of the 
service. Upon the Clerk devolves the duty of preparing and carrying the 
Ordnance Estimates through Parliament. Each of these three officers has 
his own separate and distinct duties; but as all acts are done in the name 
and by the authority of the Board, all important questions are brought before 
it, and every member is expected to have a general knowledge of the business 
transacted in every separate division. The business of the Board compre- 
hends, with regard to the Ordnance corps, the greater part of the business 
which, as relates to the rest of the army, is transacted in the War Office ; 
for example, the examination of pay lists and accounts, the decision of all 
claims by officers to pensions for wounds, to compensation for the loss of horses 
or baggage, to command-money, and to allowance for passages, or in lieu 
of lodgings and servants. But by far the greater part of the duties of the 
Board have reference to matters not merelv concerning their own particular 



branch oF the military service, but the whole army, and even the navy. Arms, 
ammunition, and military stores of every description (in<:ludin|^ guns and car- 
riages fur the navy), are supplied by them to both services. Besides the clothing 
k of the artillery and engineers, they furnish also that of j>art of the militia, of the 
I police force in Ireland, and of some corps belonging to the army, and the great 
I coats for all ; they are likewise charged with the issue of various kinds of bu]>- 
plics, as of fuel, light, Sec, both in Great Britain and abroad, and, with respect 
to the troops in Great Britain, of y>rovision and forage. The construction and 
repair of fortifications, military works, and barracks, is another branch of the 
business of the department ; which has also the duty, altogether unconnected 
with any thing of a niiJitary character, of furnishing various descriptions of stores 
for the use of the convict establishment in the penal colonies. 

The Commissariat officers on foreign stations correspond directly with the 
Treasurj', and receive from it all orders with reference to the mode in which the 
service is to be performed. Till 1834 (when the duty was transferred to the 
Ordnance) the charge of the issue of forage and provisions to the troops in Great 
Britain was retained by the Treasury. Since that time the Agent for Commis- 
sariat supplies has been suppressed, and the number of clerks on the Commis- 
sariat establishment reduced. The Commissariat is a peculiar and important 
service, requiring great ability and much experience. During the whole time 
consumed by the British army in advancing from the frontiers of Portugal to the 
Pyrenees, the Commissariat officers had to feed daily 80,000 men and 20,000 
horses The money raised by the Commissariat department in specie, in silver 
and gold, in Spain and Portugal during the Peninsular war, by bills on this 
country, amounted to somewhere about 30,000,000/. sterling ; and probably 
10,000.000/. more was sent from England, and as much from the Mediterruneuu 
and other quarters. The justice and wisdom of the paltry economy of throwing 
part of the duties of this department upon the Ordnance, whose functions were 
already sufficiently onerous and complicated, and upon a reduced Board of quill- 
driving Treasury clerks who had no experience outside of their office, may woll 
be doubted. But there can be no doubt as to the gross injustice of throwing all 
the able and experienced Commissariiit officers, trained in the arduous affairs of 
the Pt-ninsula, upon half-pay, instead of remodelling the Commissariat depart- 
ment by placing some of them at the head of it. A system might thus have 
been organised by men who hud been taught their business cxj>erimentally, in n 
school such as it is to be hoyjed no individuals may for many generations have a 
chance of entering. An opportunity has been let slip of perfecting this branch 
of the service which will be felt as soon as Britain is again dared to the field, 
for the gift of military financiering does not come by nature. 

Since the abolition of the Comptrollers of Army Accounts, the Commissioners 
of Audit, in addition to their former duty of auditing the accounts of a part of 
the expenditure of the Commissioners for the service of the army on every foreign 
station, have also acted as advisers to the Treasury in military business in 
general, and j»articularlv in all that relates to the Commissariat. Properly 
speaking, the Commissariat and Audit Board are both branches of the Treasury. 
This may be the most proper place to notice that by the Act 5 and 6 of William 
IV. the separate ofBces of Paymaster of the Forces^ Treasurer of Chelsea Hos- 




pital. Treasurer of the Navy, and Treasurer of the Ordnance, are all consolidated 
into the one oiBce of Paymaster General. This office is also immediately under 
the control of the Treasury. 

Lastly, the Commissioners of Chelsea Hospital are charged with the manage- 
ment of the internal af!\iirs of the hospital^ with the admission of in-pcnsioners. 
the placing of discharged soldiers on the out-pension, and the issuing of war- 
rant* for payment of their pensions. Their proceedings arc governed by the 
patent l>y which they arc appointed, the instructions consccjuent thereon prepared 
by the Secretary at War, by various Acts of Parliament regulating particular 
])oints^ and by occasional instructions conveyed to them by the Treasury and hy 
the Secretary at War. 

Amid all this scattering of military business through a number of departments, 
it is clear that the authorities at the Horse Guards— the Secretary at War and 
the Commander-in-Chief — remain the nucleus, the heart of the military organisa- 
tion of Great Britain. Independent though the Master of the Ordnance be, his 
arm is regarded but as an auxiliary, an adjunct to the army of the line. This 
manner of viewing it is carried to an extreme which occasions gross injustice to 
the corps of Artillery and Engineers. The best commanders of France — Napo- 
leon himself — were bred in the Artillery, An English Artillery or Engineer 
officer cannot look forward to command in the field. " I louk upon the Artillery/* 
said Sir Augustus Fraser, iu 1833, "to be a neglected service, and I know that 
it is so considered by the officers themselves. I louk upon it that no corps that 
is solely advanced by seniorities and death- vacancies can come to perfection. 
When you have men of ability^ the ability is locked up ; when they have no ability 
they go on with the stream. The officers are all well educated, but to little pur- 
pose ; and assuredly the state of the Artillery will force itself upou the country 
sooner or later. / have been forty years in the Artil/ery, and have got to be a 
Colonel, and I could go dovn a hundred wen in the Tajimcnt uithout coming to any 
man ttiuch younger than myself." What Sir Augustus thought would be doing 
justice to his corps appeared from his replies to three questions of the Commis- 
sioners on the civil administration of the army in 1833: " Officers of Artillery 
and Engineers arc very seldom appointed to command garrisons or dislricta." 
" Putting them upon the staff has been discouraged." " I am sure that a door 
might be opened for Artillery officers to go into the army with great advantage 
to the service and themselves." The best heads and the best educated intellects 
in the service are prevented from rising to command — that is not wise. 

But this is a digression. The Horse Guards is the centre of vitality of an 
army. This army consists of: — Cavalnj : The first and second regiments of Life 
Guards, the royal regiment of the Horse Guards (blues), seven regiments of 
Dragoon Guards, three of Dragoons, nine of Light Dragoons, including Lancers 
and Hussars. In this enumeration the cavalry serving in India and the Cape corps 
of mounted riflemen are not included. Infantry: Three regiments of Guards, 
seventy-nine regiments of the line of one battalion each, the 00th (of the line) 
and the rifle brigade of two battalions each, two West India regiments, two com- 
panies of the royal staff corps, three Newfoundland and three royal veteran 
companies, the African corps, and the Ceylon regiment To these fall to be 
added the Engineers and the Artillery, with the royal waggon-train, the arti- 



fibers, the rocket corps, and the sappers and minera. The infantry and cavalry 
borne on the estimates of i8-il amounted to 80,738 otRccrB and men, of whom 
79,798 were effective*. The engineer corps amounted to 960 officer* and men, 
and the artillery to 7051. 

This is, after all, but the akclcton of the army — the dry bones — the framework 
which gives it form and cohesion. The quivering flesh and bounding blood 
which renders it an object beautiful to look upon — the living spirit which lends 
it life and energy— are diffused through thousands of manly bosoms scattered 
over the whole globe. Some are chafing in compulsory idleness among the 
country towns, or manufacturing cajatala of the old island: some arc doing duty 
amid the sharp gales of Canada, amid the sweltering tropical heat of the Antilles, 
or in the anomalous land of kangaroos and convicts. Some have just been bear- 
ing the standard of their country in triumph into the very bowels of " the central 
flowery land," while others have been sharing in the alternate defeats and 
trium]>h8 of the mountain-land of the Afghans. Rather than remain inactive, 
some of the more ardent spirits have been exploring or taking part in Che frays of 
Persia and Turkistan, and of the rather more barbarous Christian republics of 
South America. There is scarcely a region of the earth in uur day that has not 
seen a real line captain — that rare animal which excited such a sensation when it 
made its unexpected appearance at Charlie's Hope, in the person of Dandy Din- 
mont's deliverer. And a talisman is placed within these shabby tasteless walls 
—right under that ineffable cujiola — of power to arrest at once the wandering 
{jropensities of the most distant uf those fearless spirits, and call him home as 
tame as the sportsman's pointer when ordered to heel, or to send him forth again 
fiercer than sleuth-hound lancing on his prey. 

It is a strange thing, that military discipline, which fuses so many of a nation's 
fiercest and most wayward spirits as it were into one mind and one will! The 
armies of modem Europe have no parallel in any other age or region. Individual 
armies were formed by Alexander, by Baber, by Titnur, and other conquerors ; 
but they dissolved with the deathof the master-spirit which called them together. 
But the armies of France, England, and Germany have anorganic life independent 
of any individual : all of them arc enduring as the civil institutions upon which 
they are engrafted. The army of France survived the dissolution of these insti- 
tutions, and was all that was left to rc-construct civil society after the Revolution. 
It is a fashion with those who have not thoroughly examined the matter, to speak 
lightly of an army's discipline and organisation, and to exalt what they call 
the irresistible enthusiasm of a people. It was not the people who repelled the 
Allied Sovereign, under the Duke of Brunswick from the French frontier, and 
carried the eagles of France in triumph over great part of Europe ; it was not 
the people who struck down Napoleon in the red field of Leipzig. Popular en- 
thusiasm gave a new stimulus to the army, but it was the traditional dispiplinc 
and organisation inherited from Turcnne, MontccucuU, Marlborough, Frederic 
the Great, and other masters of the art of war, which received the unformed ma- 
terials of enthusiastic recruits, and in its hard press stamped them into heroes. 
An organised army upon modern principles can make soldiers of almost any 
materials; and the mightiest enthusiasm of individuals or nations is at best but 





tbe heavy wave which muBt bn^ak on the rock-like structure of an army, and fall 
back in fuam, carrying with it at most some shattered fragments. 

A finer army, whrthcr we reg-ard its physical or moral qualities, never existed 
than our own at the present moment. Its services as a bulwark against aggres- 
sion from without in time of war, or as an itfective minister of the civil power in 
internal emergencies in time of peace, are invaluable. Higher scientific acquire- 
ments than exist umonj^ its *' corps du gunic" are not to be found ; a more in- 
telligent, moral, htgh-s|iirited, and lighlheartcd soldiery never made a monarch's 
heart high as she passed her eyes along their ranks. And where shall we look 
for such a wiry, wary master of his art to hold this beautiful but terrible power 
in hi d as the present occu ant of the Horse Guards? 


(fiWK rtMtt BTllir H(irhi Oiiinl*. 


TaoTTOHT — speech — Writing — Printing;— these are, as it were, fotir sncceBBire do 
Telopmenls of mind, each ascending in about the same degree beyond the other. 
Much as in Milton's similitude — 

" TliUB from the root 
Springs lightly the ^reen stalk [or talk] — from thence the /ntw» 
More airy — lust che bright cousumiiiale flower.'* 

Not, indeed, that any particular copy of a printed boolt, bound and lettered, much 
resembles a flower : — we must endeavour to conceive a printed book in the ab- 
stract, as Cram be did a Lord Mayor without horse, gown, and gold chain, or even 
stature, features, colour, hands, feet, or body. In this sense a printed book is 
really " the bright consummate flower" of thought. 

Here, however, our business is not with cither books or booksellers in tho 
abstract, but with the latter in humble concrete, or in flesh and blood. Al- 
though books were written, and to a certain extent published too, by copies 
of them being made by transLTibers. before the invention of printing, yet it may 
safely be assumed that it was not till af\er the introduction of that art that the 
sale of them became a regular trade in England. In the height to which even 
literary civilization had grown in the ancient world of Greece and Rome, there 
were shops fur books probably in all the considerable towns ; and in modern 
Europe, in the middle ages, Bibles, and also other books, were sold at the fairs 
in many of the principal cities of the Continent ; but these were rather general 
than local marts ; indeed, literature then, when books for the most part wero 
written in Latin, the common tongue of the learned in all countries, was Euro- 
pean, rather than national, everywhere; the manufacture or sale of books on a 
large scale could only bo carried on at the great central points of attraction anj 
confluence; England^ being out of the way of common resort, could scarce** 

VOL. V. ^ 



maintain anything of the kind. The purchase of a book here seems to have been 

merely an occasional transaction, like the purchase of a house; and the few books 

that were produced with a view to being sold were mostly prepared in the mo- 

nasterics> as well as probably purchased only by those establishments. Pcrhajis 

.he first books that got to any extent into the hands of the people in England 

and even their dispersion must have been but to a very limited extent) were tlic 

cligious treatises of the rcfurmcr Wyctiffc, and some of his followers, in the 

ourteenth century. But, still, there is no mention of book-shops in London, we 

'Clicvc, till long after this date. Fitz-Stephen, of course, has no notice of any 

m his Description, written in the latter part of the twelfth century, in which he 

^.clebratcs with so much gusto the wineshops, the cook-shops, the fish-shops, the 

poultry-shops, the horse-markets, &c., of " the most noble city ;" and Dan John 

Lydgatc's ballad of ' London, Lyckpenny,' which belongs to the fifteenth century, 

is equally silent as to the existence of any storehouses of food or furniture for the 

mind, while commemorating the activity and vociferation of the dealers in all 

other kinds of commodities. 

Bookselling, no doubt, came in among us with printing; and, probably, our 
first printers were also our first booksellers. Memorable old William Caxton, 
who set up his press in the Almonry at Westminster, in the year 1474, not 
only himself sold the books he printed, but even wrote many of them : he was 
aulhor, printer, and publisher, all in one. It was not long, however, before 
tko merchandize in books, as in other commodities in extensive demand, came 
to be carried on by a class of persons distinct from both the intellectual and the 
mechanical manufacturers of the article. 

The Stationers' Company was incorporated in 1557. in the reign of Philip and 
Mary, and comprehends stiitioncrs, booksellers, letter-founders, printers, and 
bookbinders. The booksellers, however, have always been by far the most 
numerous portion of the body, and also the most influential from other causes, as 
well as from their greater number. They arc, from the nature of the case, the 
capitalists by whom the production of books is mainly promoted — the employers 
of the printers, and to some extent of the authors also — and, as they run the risks, 
so they enjoy the advantages, of that position. Accordingly, while nobody ever 
heard of any influence on literature being exerted by printers, the influence of 
booksellers on literature has at all times, and in all countries, been very con- 
siderable. We have the high authority of Horace for looking upon them as, in 
the department of poetr)' at least, one of the three supreme controlling powers ; — 

** MediocribuH esse {kwIib, 
Nan dii, nonhominc?, uon c^nccasere coluuuise" — 

that is, as the words may be translated. Mediocrity in poetry is a thing not suf- 
fered by gods, by men, or by booksellers. The bookseller, indeed, it is intimated 
by the metonymy here ustd, judges by a rule or standard of criticism different 
from that referred to by the general ]>ublic ; he applies what may be called a 
pockei-tuio to the matter ; but it may be fairly questioned if any surer or better 
for ordinary occasions is to be found in Aristotle. 

Wo have not much information about bookselling in London that is curi- 
ous or interesting till we come to the middle of the seventeenth century. 
It was probably not till some time after this that book-shops (in the mo- 




dern sense) began to rise in what is now the great centre of the trade — Pater- 
noster Row> or The How, as it is styled by way of eminence (and also perhaps 
to get rid of an inconveniently polysyllabic designation). They seem to have been 
only beginning to make their appearance when Strype produced his edition of 
Stow, in 1720. "This street," wc arc told by Strype. in his solemn fashion of 
speech, " before the Fire of Jjondou, was taken up by cn;iucnt mercers, silkmen, 
and laccnicn ; and their shops were so resorted unto by the nobility and gentry, 
in their coaches, that oft times the street was so stopped up that there was no 
passage for foot passengers. But since the said tire, those eminent tradesmen 
have settled themselves in several other parts, esjx^cially in Covent Garden, io 
Bedford Street, Henrietta Street, and King Street. And the inhabitants in this 
street are now a mixture of tradespeople, and chiefly tire-women, for the sale of 
commodes, top-knots, and the like dressings for the females. There arc also 
many shops of mercers and silkmen ; and at the upper end some stationers, and 
large warehouses for booksellers ; well situated for learned and studious men*s 
access thither; being more retired and private." 

At the time of the Great Fire, and probably for long before, the principal 
booksellers' shops were in St. Paul's Churchyard. Hither Pcpys was commonly 
wont to resort when he wanted either a new or an old book. Thus, on the Slst 
of November, 1060, ho notes, *' In Paul's Churchyard I bought the play of 
Henry the Fourth, and so went to the new theatre and saw it acted ; but, my 
expectation being too great, it did not please me, as otherwise I believe it 
would ; and iny having a book, I believe, did spoil it a little." Again, on the 
iOth of February, I66'2, we find him recording as follows: — 'To Paul's Church- 
yard, and there I met with Dr. Fuller's ' £ngland*s Worthies,' the first time 
that 1 ever saw it; and so I sat down reading in it; being much troubled that 
(though he had Bomo discourse with me about my family and arms) be says 
nothing at all, nor mentions us cither in Cambridgeshire or Norfolk. But I 
believe, indeed, our family were never considerable." PoorPe))ys! never was 
inordinate vanity in any man so snubbed and checked at every movement by a 
itiLl more inveterate principle of honesty: it is like the convulsive jerking and 
counter-jerking of a Supple Jack. 

A few years after this, however, the booksellers were for a time driven from 
this quarter by the effects of the great fire. *' By Mr. Dugdale,'* writes Pejtys, 
under date of September 26th, 1666, " I hear the great loss of books in St. 
Paul's Churchyard, and at their Hall also, which they value at about 150,000/.; 
some booksellers being wholly undone, and, among others, they say, my pooi 
Kirton." And on the 5th of October ho adds, " Mr. Kirtou's kinsman, my book- 
«eller» come in my way ; and so I am told by him that Mr. Kirton is utterly 
undone, and made 2000/. or 3000/. worse than nothing, from being worth 7000/. 
or 80O0/. That the goods laid in the Churchyard fired through the windows 
those in St Faith's church; and those, coming to the warehouses'-doors, fired 
them, and burned all the books and the pillars of the church, which is alike 
^jiilarcd (which I knew not before) ; bnt, being not burned, they stood still. He 
do believe there is above 150,000/. of books burned ; all the great booksellera 
almost undone; not only them, but their warehouses at their Hall and undei 
Chfist^church, and elsewhere^ being all burned. A great want thereof there will 

Q 2 




be of honks, specially Latin books and forcig^n books; and, among olhcn, tlic 
Polyglott and new Bible, which he believes will be prcaendy worth 40/. apiece."* 
Walton's, or the London Poly^lotf, here mentioned, is in six fulio volumes, tbe 
first of which had been published in IG54, and the fourth, fifth, and sixth in 
\ftri7. Evelyn also records the immense destruction of books by this lerrible 
conflagration. In his * Diary * he slates that the magazines or stores of books i 
belonging to the stationers, which had been deposited for safety in the v&ultedH 
church of Si. Faiih's under St Paurs, continued to burn for a week. ™ 

The history of one of Pcpys's purchases iilTords an instance of the extent to 
which the fire raised the price of certain books, " It is strange." he observes, on 
the 20th of March. 1667, " how Rycauts Discourse of Turkey, which before th» 
fire I was asked hut 8ff, for, there being all but twenty-two or thereabouts burned, 
1 did now offer '20s., and he demands 50t., and I think 1 shall give it him. thoui^h 
it be only as a monument of the fire.*' Accordingly he bought the book, which 
is now in the Pepyaian Library at Cambridge. " Away to the Temple," he writes 
on the 8th of April, *' to my new bookseller's; and there 1 did agree for Rycaut'i 
Ulc History of the Turkish Policy, which cost me 55*., whereas it was sold plain 
before tlic lute (ire for Ss., and bound and coloured as this is for 20*. ^ for I havd 
bought it finely bound and truly coloured all the figures, of which there was but 
six books done so, whereof the King, and Duke of York, and Duke of Mon- 
mouth, and Lord Arlington hud four. The fiHh was sold, and I have bougbl 
the sixth." 

Pepys's new bookseller, as we see, was stationed in or near the Temple. 
Westminster Halt, the other more Ruisy temple of the laws, was also in thoao 
days a great place for the sale uf books, and as such was frequently visited by 
Pepys. " To Westminster FLill,'' is one of his memoranda on the *26th of Octo- 
ber, 1660, " and bought, anwng other books, one of the Life of our Queen, which 
I read at home to my wife; but it was so sillily writ that we did nothing but 
laugh at it." And if the bo(jk kept his wife and him laughing for a whole even- 
ing, what more or better wuuld he have had for his money f They are rare 
tomes of which anything so commendatory can be said. Some doubt, it is tree, 
may be raised by other entries if Pcpys's sense of the ludicrous was the jastest 
in the world. Possibly he found matter of laughter where nobody else would 
have seen anything of the kind, as it is certain that he would sometimes find none 
in what was the richest wit and humour to other people. " To the Wanlrobc," 
he writes on the 26Lh of December, 1062: "hither come Mr. Battertiby; and. 
we Calling into discourse of a new book of drollery in use, called Hudibras, I 
would needs go find it out, and met with it at the Temple : cost me '2s. (jfi. But, 
when I come to read it, it is so silly an abuse of the Presbyter Knight going to 
the wars that 1 am ashamed of it; and by and by, meeting at Mr. Townscnds at 
dinner, I sold it to him for 18(/.'* But this turned out to be a precipitate pro- 
ceeding. To Pcpys's infinite amazement, the "new book of drollery" con- 
tinued to be the rage. ** And so.** he tells us, under date of the 0th of February 
thereafter, "to a bookseller^s in the Strand, and there bought Hudibras again, 
it being certainty some ill humour to be so against that which all the world cries 
up to be the example of v\U; for which I am resolved once more to read lum. 
and see whether 1 can find it or no." With this praiseworthy resolution (much 







resembling that of the ingenious individual who. not knowing how to read, 
sought to cure that defect by procuring a proper pair of spectacles — one of the 
most touching examples of the Pursuit of Knowledge iinder Dilliculties) Pepya 
set to work ; but we fear his aucceaa was not considerable. " To Paul's Church- 
yard," he writes in his account of his doings on the 28th of November in this 
same year, " and there looked uf>on the second part of Hudibraa, which I buy not, 
but burrow to read, to see if it be as good as the first, which the world cried so 
mightily up, though it hath not a good liking in me, though 1 had tried but 
[byfj twice or three times' reading to bring myself to think it witty.'* He did 
buy the bitok, however, a few days after this. '* To St. Paul's Churchyard, to 
my bookseller's." is his naive and curious record on the 10th of December, "and 
could not tell whether to lay out my money for books of pleasure, as plays, which 
my nature was most earnest in; but at last, after seeing Chaucer, Dugdale's 
History of Paul's, Stow s London, Gesner, History of Trent, besides Shakspeare, 
Jonson, and Beaumont's plays, 1 at last chose Dr. Fuller's Worthies, the Cab- 
bala* or CuUc'ctiuns of Letters of State, and a little book, Deiiccs de Hotlande, 
with another little book or two, all of good use or serious pleasure ; and Hudi- 
braa, both parts, the book now in greatest fashion for drollery, though 1 cannot, 
I confess, see enough where the wit ties." So he seems to hare laid out his 
money in this last instance in the way of duty, or of penance, rather than for 
either pleasure or use. No doubt, if he found any ]>lea8ure in F^udibras, it must 
hare been, in his own phraseology, serious enough — entirely of the order of those 
very "calm pleasures" which the jioet has coupled and by implication almost 
identified with 'majestic pains.'* The only other mention we find of Butler's 
jKicm in the 'Diary ' is in the entry dated 1 1th October, 1665, where, in a noli^'o 
«>f an interview with Mr. Seamour, or Seymour, it is written, " I could not but 
think it odd that a parliament-man, in a serious discourse before such persons as 
\G [me ?], and my Jjord Brounckcr, and Sir John Atinnes, should quote Hudibraa, 
as being the book I doubt he hath read most" From his thus taking it as a 
surt of insult that a person should quote the book in his presence, we might 
almost suspect that his ineffectual endeavours to comprehend the wit of Hudibraa 
had come to be a standing joke against Pepys. 

On the rebuilding of the City after the fire, the booksellers, who had formerly 
carried on business in St. Paul's Churchyard, or such of them as were not re- 
duced to absolute ruin, seem to have generally returned to their old quarters. 
Pepys's friend Kirton, however, appears never to have recovered from the losses 
he sustained by that catastrojfhe. In Pepys's latter days, when he was probably 
u larger collector than ever of rare books, the bookseller with whom he chiefly 
dealt appears to have been Mr. Hubert Scott. Scott was the prince of London book- 
vUera in his day. It was with him, tuo, Roger North tells us, that his brother Dr. 
John North dealt, in la\ing the fuundatit n of his library. Scott's sister was 
North s grandmothers woman ; " and, upon that acquaintance," says Roger, " he 
exjiertcd, and really had from him. useful information of books and the editions.'' 
-*• This Mr. Scott," the graphic and cordial biograjther goes on, " was, in his 
time, the greatest librarian in Euro])e ; for, besides his stock in Kngland, he had 
tarehouses at Frankfort, Paris, and other places, and dealt by factors. After he waa 
irowD old, and much worn by multiplicity of business, he began to think of hia 



rase, and to leave off. "Whereupon he contracted with one Mille, of S*. PauUa 
Churchyard, near 10,000/. deep, and articled not to open hU shop any more. But 
Mills, with his auctioneering, atlases, and projects, failed, whereby poor Scott lost 
above half his means. But he held to his contract of not opening his shop, and. 
when he was in London, fur he had a country-house, passed most of his time at 
his house amongst the rest of his books ; and his reading (for he was no mean 
scholar) was the chief entertainment of his lime. He was not only an expert 
bookseller, but a very conscientious good man ; and, when he threw up his trade. 
Europe had no small loss of him. Our doctor, at one lift, bought of him a whole 
set of Greek classics, in folio, of the best editions.'* 

Scott Icept shop in Little Britain, probably in the part of that zigzag street 
adjacent to Duck Lane, or, as it is now called, Duke Street, in Smithficld. This 
portion of Little Britain and the whole of Duck Lane, in the latter hall 
of the seventeenth and the early jiart of the eighteenth century, were mainly 
inhabited by booksellers and publishers. It was, Roger North tells us, " a 
plentiful and ]>erpetual emporium of learned authors; and men went thither 
as to a market." "This," he continues, "drew to the place a mighty trade; 
the rather because the shops were spacious, and the learned gladly resorted to 
tbeui, where they seldom failed to meet with agreeable conversation. And 
the booksellers themselves were knowing and conversiblc men, with whom, 
for the sake of bookish knowledge, the greatest wits were pleased to converse." 
Strypc, in his edition of Stow, published in 1 720. describes Little Britain as 
"well built, and much inhabited by booksellers, especially from the Pump to 
Duck Lane;"— ''which," he adds, "is also taken up by booksellers for old 
books." Afterwards, he describes the part of Little Britain occupied by the 
booksellers as extending from St. BarthMomew Close southward towards the 
Pump, and so bending eastward to Aldcrsgatc Street. The booksellers here, he 
says, " formerly were much resorted to by learned men for Greek and Latin 
books ; but now the station of such booksellers is removed into Paternoster Row 
and Paurs Churchyard." Maitland, writing in 1756, tells us that the book- 
sellers' part of Little Britain was then much deserted and had little trade ; and 
Duck Lane he describes as " a place once noted for dealers in old books, but at 
present quite forsaken by all sorts of dealers." 

When Benjamin Franklin and his friend James Ralph (who also became in 
after years a person of some note, making a considerable figure as a political 
writer in the latter part of the reign of George II., and having besides got 
himself immortalized in the ' Dunciad') came over together from Philadelphia to 
London in the end of the year \7'24, they took a lodging in Little Britain at 
3». Ot/. per week ; "as much," says Franklin, " as we could then afford."' He 
has commemorated one of the dealers in old books by whom the street was then 
inhabited. "While I lodged in Little Britain," he relates, "I made an ac- 
quaintance with one Wilcox, a bookseller, whose shop was next door. He had 
an immense collection of second-hand books. Circulating libraries were not 
then in use; but we agreed that, on certain reasonable terms (which I have now 
forgotten). I might take, read, and return any of his books: this I esteemed a 
great advantage, and 1 made as much use of it as I could." 

But by far the most curious and complete account that wo have ot the book 




setters and boukselUng businesn of London at the beginning of the eighteenth 
century is that given by the famous John Dunton in the extraordinary auto- 
biographical performance which he entitles his * Life and Errors.' Dunton^ 
born in 1659, was the only son of the Rev. John Dunton, rector of Graflfham, in 
Huntingdonshire, and as such the descendant of a line of clergymen, both htB 
grandfather and great-grandfather having been ministers of Little Missendcn, in 
Bucks. He was himself intended for the church, and with that view he was put 
to school and taught Latin, which he says gave him satisfaction enough, so that 
he attained to such a knowledge of the language as to bo able to "speak it 
pretty well extempore;" "but/* he continues, "the difficulties of the Greek 
quite broke all my resolutioiiB; and. which was a greater disadvantage tome, I 
ifoM wounded with a silent passion for a virgin in my father's house, that un- 
hinged me all at once, though I never made a discovery of the flamo, and for 
(hat reason it gave me the greater torment. This happened in my thirteenth 
year." The truth is, Dunton, with prodigious intellectual activity, or rather 
restlessness, never could persevere long enough with anything he undertook, 
study, task, business, or plan of life, to make much of it. So, finding him too 
mercurial for a scholar, his father determined to make a bookseller of him, and 
ia bis fifteenth year he was sent up to London, and apprenticed to Mr. Thomas 
Parkhurst. whom he describes as "the most eminent Presbyterian bookseller in 
the three kingdoms. ' Having passed through his apprenticeship, Dunton set up 
for himself as a bookseller and publisher about the year 1685. The picture ho 
draws of literature and its followers in London at this date is not flattering, bnt 
it may be held to ]»rovc, at any rate, that the profession can hardly have dege- 
nerated. "Printing," he says (meaning what we should now call publishing), 
"was now the uppermost in my thoughts, and hackney authors began to ply me 
with specimens, as earnestly, and with as much passion and concern, as the 
wRtermen do passengers with oars and scullers. I had some acquaintance with 
ihis generation in my apprenticeship, and had never any warm affection for 
ihem ; in regard I always thought their great concern lay more in how much a 
sheet than in any generous respect they bore to the commonwealth of learning; 
and. indeed, the learning itself of these gentlemen liua very often in as little 
room aa their honesty, though they will pretend to have studied for six or seven 
years in the Bodleian Library, to have turned over the Fathers, and to have 
read and digested the whole compass both of human and ecclesiastic history ; — ■ 
when, alas ! they have never been able to understand a single page of St. 
Cyprian, and cannot tell you whether the Fathers lived before or after Chriat. 
And, as for their honesty^ it is very remarkable : they will either persuade you 
to go upon another man's copy, or steal his thought, or to abridge his book, 
which should have got him bread for his lifetime. When you have engaged 
them npon some project or other, they will write you off three or four sheets 
1)erbaps ; take up three or four pounds upon an urgent occasion ; and you shall 
ncrer hear of them more." Well, there may be some rapacity here, but there 
is considerable simplicity too ; for surely the three or four pounds, even at the 
Ihcn value of money, could scarcely have been the full price of copy for as many 
sheets of letterpress. We doubt if a publisher ever now-a-days gels rid of an 
author upon such eaiy terms. 


The roost saleable of all publicatious at this date were sermons and other re- 
ligious disquiflitions. The first copy or manuscript Dunton ventured to print was 
a volume entitled, ' The Sufferin}^ of Christ,* by the Rev. Mr. Doolittle. " This 
book/' he says, '* fully answered my end; for, exchanging it through the whole 
tride, it furnished my shop with all sorts of books saleable at that time." 
This lets us into a peculiarity in the manner in which the publishing business 
was then carried on : — when a publisher, Itcing also, as was generally or univer- 
sally the case, a retail and miscellaneous bookseller, brought out a work, he dis- 
posed of the copies among the trade mostly in the way of barter or exchange for 
other books. This j^ractice, it is hardly necessary to say, has long gone out. 

Dunton speedily followed this first venture by two or three other publications 
in the same line, all of which did well ; and this extraordinary success in his first 
attempts gave him, he observes, " an ungovernable itch to be always intriguing 
that way." lie now began to be plied with i^rojects and proposals of marriage 
from various quarters. Mrs. Mary Sanders, the virgin who first unhinged Itim 
tinder the paternal roof, had by this time got entirely out of his head ; the beaa- 
tiful Rachel Seaton, the innocent Sarah Day of Ratcliffe, the religious Sarah 
Briscow of Uxbridge, had all had their turn ; at last, being smitten at church by 
Elizabeth Annesley, daughter of the Rev. Dr. Annesley, a distinguished non- 
conformist preiuher of those times, he married that lady. Another daughter of 
Dr. Annesley's, it may be noticed, married Mr. Samuel Wesley, the poet, and 
became by him the mother of John Wesley, the famous founder of Methodism. 
Annesley is said to have been a near relative of the Irish Annesleys, Earls of 
Anglesey — and the Wesleys, as is well known, were connected with another Eng- 
lish family settled in Ireland, the Wellcslcys, which has risen to much greater 
distinction. It is curious what strange diversities of station and character a ge- 
nealogy will sometimes bring together- 

The history of Dunton's various amours, connubial and Platonic, makes up a 
great part of his book ; but of course, although many of his details are abun- 
dantly curious, wo cannot enter upon that matter here. His hrst wife and he 
called one another Iris and Philaret, both before and after their marriage — and 
he would have us believe that they lived together in unequalled affection and 
harmony. But for all that Dunton never could remain long at home: he had 
been but a few years married when he set off for New England, and remained 
away for nearly a year; when he came back he found his atTuirs in such a state 
that he thought it prudent to make a tour in Holland and Germany, in order to 
be safe from his creditors ; — one of his books ts an account uf a visit be made to 
Ireland ; — he talks there of a projected expedition to Scotland ; and we do not 
know how much farther he extended his rambles. He defends his ]jractice in this 
respect, indeed, upon high grounds. " Who would have thought," he says, in his 
account of the Irish tour. " I could ever have left Eliza ? for there was an ' even 
thread of endearment run through all we said or did.' I may truly say, for the 
fifteen years we lived together, there never passed an angry look ; but, as 
kind as she was, I could not think of growing old in the confines of one city, and, 
therefore, in 1GS6, I embarked for America, Holland, and other parta. . . . To 
ramble is the best way to endear a wife, and to try her love, if she has any. . . 
It is true, for a wife to say, as Eliza did, * My dear, I rejoice I am able to serve 


tliee. and, as long as I have it, it ii all thine, and we had been still happy had 
we lost all but one another ;* this, indeed, is very obliging, and shows she loves 
me in earnest. But still there is sumethiug in ranibling be)ond this; fur this is 
no more, if her husband be sober, than * richer for poorer' obliges her to ; but for 
8t spouse to say, ' Travel as far as you please, and stay as lon^ you will, for ab- 
sence shall never divide us,' is a higher flight abundantly, as it shows she can 
part with her very husband, ten times dearer to a good wife than her money, when 
it tends to his satisfaction.'* Acting upon these principles of pbilosophy, Duntun 
look his swing; and not only gratified himself with the sight of foreign parts, 
but, being a perfectly virtuous person, struck up Platonic friendships with all the 
agreeable women. — maids, wives, and widows, — he met with wherever he went. 
Meanwhile, he took care never to forget his wife at home ; when he was in New 
England, he says, he sent £liza sixty letters by one ship I He kept all he wrote 
during his stay, we suppose, and making them up into a parcel, sent them off at 
once. However, Eliza, or Iris, died in 1697; and the same year he married a 
Miss Sarah Nicholas, whom he calls Valeria, and with whom and whose relatives 
he by nu means got on so harmoniously as he had done with his first matrimonial 
connexion. The truth appears to be that he was by this time a ruined man — • 
and that his new marriage was rather a speculation in trade than anything else, 
his wife having some expectations which he wished to turn to account and was 
thwarted in his object by her friends. He had wusted a world of energy and 
ingenuity in a vast muUipUcity of enterprises and projects, very few of which 
probably turned out remunerative. Duntoa's first shop was at the corner of 
Prince's Street, near the Uoyal Exchange ; from this, in 1688, on the day the 
Prince of Orange entered London, he transferred himself, and his sign of the 
Black Raven, to the Poultry Compter, where he remained for ten years. Whither 
he went after this does not appear He published his ' Life and Krrors,' in a 
Uttle thick duodecimo, in 1705, when he had been twenty years in business — in 
the coui'se of which time, he tells us, he had printed no fewer than GOO works. 
Of many of these he was the author, as well as the publisher — and he continued 
to write and print for nearly twenty years longer. The last ten years of his ex- 
istence, however, seem to have passed in quiet and obscurity — not improbably in 
poverty and broken health — and all that is further known of him is that, having 
lost his se<'ond wife, from whom he had long been separated, in 1721, he gave up 
the battle of life in 1733, at the good old age of seventy-four. 

The principal literary performance by which Dunton's memory is preserved, 
besides his ' Life and Krrors," is his ' Athenian Mercury,* originally published 
from 1 7th March, I6W, to 8th February, 1696, in weekly nuntbers, the best of 
which were afterwards collected and reprinted in three octavo volumes. It was 
projected by himself, and his principal or only associates in carrying it on were a 
Mr Richard Sault, a Cambridge theologian, one of his hack authors, for whom 
he soon after published a singular production entitled 'The Second Spira," which 
made a great deal of noise — his brother-in-law, Mr. Samuel Wesley — and the 
famous metaphysical divine. Dr. John Norris. The papers consist of casuistical 
and other disquisitions, in answer to queries upon all' sorts of subjects, which arc 
supposed to have been submitted to the conductors, and many of which prubably 
were actually seat to thenar although in other cases the puzzle as well as the 



iolullon of it may have heen the oracle's own. The scheme at least ensured 
unlimited variety of subject^ and the writers had sufficient talent and superficial 
learning to give a temporary interest to their Incabrations^ if not to put into 
them much of an enduring value. 

Dunton himself was not without a touch of something that may be almost 
called genius. No doubt he was all along a little, or not a little, mad ; both his 
writings and his history betray this throughout; and he was also a very imper- 
fectly educated man. But, if wc make due allowance for these defects, we shall 
find a merit far above mediocrity in much of what he has done. He may be 
shortly characterised as a sort of wild Defoe — a coarser mind cast in somewhat a 
like mould — a Defoe without the training, and also with but a scanty endowment 
of the natural capability of being so trained, but yet with a considerable portion 
of the same fertility and vital force, as well as of the same originality of intel- 
lectual character. If Defoe had died before producing any of his works of fic- 
tion — which he might very well have done and still left behind him a consider- 
able literary name, seeing that the first of them, ' Robinson Crusoe/ did not 
appear till 171'-'. when he was in his fifly-eighth year, and had long been distin* 
guished as a political and miRcellancous writer — the comparison between him and 
Dunton would not have at all a fanciful or extravagant air. 

In a tract, which he entitles ' Dunton's Creed, or Rcligio Bibliopola3, in imita- 
tion of Dr. Brown's Rcligio Medici," first published in 1604, under the name of 
Benjamin Bridgwater, an M.A. of Trinity College, Cambridge, by whom it was 
in fact partly written, Dunton gives no very favourable account of the estimation 
in which the members of '* the Trade" were held in that day. '* Booksellers, in 
the gross/* he says, ''arc taken for no better than a pack of knaves and 
atheists." He asserts, however, in opposition to this vulgar prejudice, that 
"among them there is a retail of men who are no strangers to religion and 
honesty/* In his Life and Errors he undertakes "to draw the characters of the 
most eminent of that profossion in the throe kingdoms/' — and this is one of the 
most curious and interesting ]>ortion8 of his book. His review of his literary 
contemporaries comprehends also the authors fur whom he published, the suc- 
cessive licencers of the press with whom he had to do, his printers, the Btationcrs 
from whom he bought his ])aper, and even the binders he employed; but we 
must confine ourselves to a few gleanings from his notices of the booksellers. 

A circumstance that is apt at first to excite some surprise is the apparent ex- 
tent and activity of the publishing business in London at this date. The book- 
sellers were very numerous — those of eminence perhaps more numerous than in 
the present day — and nearly all of them seem to have at least occasionally en- 
gaged in jjublishing, or printing, as it was called. The impressions, too, wc 
apprehend, were in general at least as large as in more recent times ; of some 
descriptions of publications certainly many more copies were thrown off than 
would now find a sale. The fact is^ that from the middle of the seventeenth to 
the middle of the eighteenth century was the ago of pamphlets ; the century 
that has since elapsed ha-i been the age of periodical publications and of news- 
papers. All controversy and discussion upon the events of the day. and upon 
tho reigning questions both of politics and religion, was then carried on by 
occasional writers; even new* was to a considerable extent commanicated to the 



public in pamphlets. The gradual transformation of this unregulated condition 
(.if things into the organized system tliat has takon its ]>luce was according to the 
common course of nature and the dcrclopment of society ; and it may bo re- 
marked that the same process is still going on. Publication socma to be falling 
more and more into the form of scries and periodical issue; and who knows but 
the time may come when nearly all new works shall be brought out in that 
method ? 

The bookseller with whose name Dunton heads his list is Mr. Richard Chis- 
well, *' who/* says he, " well deserves the title of metropolitan bookseller of 
Kngland, if not of all the world. His name at the bottom of a title-page does 
sufficiently recommend the book. Ho has not been known to print either a bad 
book, or on bad paper." Chiswell was the printer of the octavo edition of ' Til- 
lotson^s Sermons/ which proved a remarkably successful publication. A short 
account of him may be seen in Strype's * Stow,' where we are told that he was 
bom in 1639, and died in 171). Strype, who states that he was one of the pro- 
prietors of his book, characterises him as " a man worthy of great praise/* His 
shop was in St. Paul's Churchyard. 

A name now better remembered is that of the wealthy Thomas Guy, the 
foander of the hospital. He lived in Lombard Street. *' He is,'* says Dunton, 


a man of strong reason, and can talk very much to the purpose upon any sub- 
I jcct you will propose." Many of these notices of Dunton'a, by the bye, bear out 
what is said by Roger North of the superior acquirements of the bookscUcrfl of 
♦Kal generation. Thus, Mr. John Lawrence, who, we are informed, *' when Mr. 
Parkhurst dies will be the first Presbyterian bookseller in Kngland/* is declared 
10 be "very much conversant in the sacred xvritings." Of Mr. Samuel Smith, 
bookseller to the Royal Society, it is stated that he " speaks French and Latin 
with a great deal of fluency and ease." Mr. Halsey was already distinguished, 
we are assured, for " his great ingenuity and knowledge of the learned Ian- 



guage8,'*lhough atiU "in the bloom and beauty oF his youth.*' Mr. Joseph Collier, 
who had been Duntun's fellow apprentice, is affirmed to have "a great deal of 
learning." Of Mr. Shrowsbury it is written, " He merits the name of universal 
bookseller, and in familiarly acquainted with all the books that are extant in any 
language." Others again are celebrated for their natural abilities. Mr. Uubin- 
son is described as " a man very ingenious and of quick jiarts." "Mr. Shcrmcr- 
dine," says our author, ** is a man of very quick parts ; 1 have heard him say he 
■would forgive any man that could cntt^h him." Mr. Tooke, near Temple Bar 
— '* descended from the ingenious Tooke, that was furmerly treasurer** (the 
same Tookes, we suppose, that claim Friar Tuck as of their family) — is sit 
down as both " truly honest,'* and " a man of refined sense.'* Mr. Crook, whose 
shop wus in the same quarter, the publisher of many of Hobhes's works, was dead 
when Dunton wrote his book, but " was a man of extraordinary sense," which he 
had the happiness of being able to express in words as manly and apposite as the 
sense included under them." Of Mr. Pcro it is asserted that *' for sense, wit, and 
good-humour, there are but few can equal, and none can exceed him." Mr. 
Child is commemorated for '* abundance of wit, and nice reasoning, above most 
of his brethren." Of Mr. Benjamin Harris, of Graccchurch Street, it is recorded 
that " his conversation is general, but never impertinent, and his wit pliable to 
all inventions.'* Mr. Knapton, whose sign was the Crown, in Ludgate Street, 
close by St. Paura Churchyard — the shop from which issued Tindal's translation 
of Rapin's * History of England,* and many more of the most successful publica- 
tions of the earlier part of the last century —is spoken of with warm laudation as 
** a very accomplished person .... made up with solid worth, brave and 
generous." Of Mr. Burroughs, in Little Britain, we have also a high character. 
■' He." says Dunton, " is a very beautiful person, and his wit sparkles as well as 
his eyes. He has as much address, and as great a presence of mind as I ever 
met with. He is diverting company, and perhaps as well qualified to make an 
alderman as any bookseller in Little Britain.'* We see the very aldermen in that 
Augustan age were ex]iected to be somewhat lively. The next who is introduced 
is Mr. Walwyn : " he," proceeds our encomiastic author, " is a person of great 
modesty and wit. and, if I may Judge by his Poems, porhafrs the most ingenious 
bard, of a bookseller, in London." Mr. Evcts, at the Green Dragon, though not 
talkative, " has a sudden way of repartee, very witty and surprising.** Mr. 
Swall. now out of business, " was the owner of a great deal of wit and learning." 
Mr. Fox, in Westminslor Hall, " is a refined poUlician." Mr. Sprint, junior, 
" has a ready wit — is the handsomest man in the Stationers' Company — and may 
without compliment be called a very accomplished bookseller.'* Mr. John 
Harris, now dead, had a little body, " but what nature denied him in bulk and 
straightncss, she gave him in wit and vigour." Mr. Herrick, again, who is '* a 
talb handsome man," " is well skilled in the doctrine of ihc Christian faith, and 
can discourse handsomely upon the most ditHcult article in religion." Others, 
finally, arc prodigies of both genius and scholarship — as Mr. Samuel Buckley, 
who " is an excellent linguist, understands the Latin, Fniuh, Dutch, and Italian 
tongues, and is master of a great deal of wit." — " He prints," adds Dunton. '* the 
• Daily Courant' and * Monthly Register,' which 1 hear he translates out of the 
foreign pa^^ers hiuuclf.'* Buckley, who ultimately became the priuter of Uic 





' Lonrlon Gazette/ seems to have been an object of special admiration, or envy, 
to our anthor, and his meriU and good fortune are expatiated upon at great 
length in various of his publications. He is known in the rcpubUc of letters as 
the learned printer, and. in fiict, editor, of the London edition of De Thou's 
Latin History,' published in 1733, in seven volumes folio. 
The London booksellers of this era would seem. thcn> to have formed quite a 
brilliant constellation of wits and literati. Hut we have not yet by any means 
acquired a complete notion of their fascinations. The following are a few more 
of Dunton's graphic touches : — Mr. Thomas Bonnet is ** a man very neat in his 
dress, and very much devoted lo the church.'' Mr. William Hartley ia " a very 
comely, personable man." Mr. Nicholas Boddington " has the satisfaction to 
belong ttj a very beautiful wife." Mr. Bosvile, at the Dial in Fleet Street, " is a 
very genteel person; and it is in Mr. Bosvile that all qualities meet that are 
essential to a good churchman or an accomplished bookseller.*' Mr, Richard 
Parker ; " his body is in good case ; his face red and plump ; his eyes brisk and 
sparkling; of an humble look and behaviour; naturally witty; and fortunate in 
all he prints." Mr. Wellington, among other qualifications. " has a pretty knack 
at kee]iing his word.*' Mr. William Miller, deceased, " hud the largest collection 
of stitched books [pamphlets] of any man in the world, and could furnish the 
clergy (at a dead lilt) with a printed sermon on any text or occasion ;" " his per- 
son was tall and slender ; he had a graceful aspect (neither stern nor eficminato) ; 
his eyes were smiling and lively ; his complexion was of an honey colour, and he 
breathed as if he had run a race; the figure and symmetry of his face exactly 
proportionable ; he had a soft vuice, and a very obliging tongue ; he was very 
Tiiudcratc in his eating, drinking, and sleeping ; and was blest with a great 
memory.'* Mr. Oilliflowcr *' loved his bottle and his friend with an equal afTcc- 
lion.** Mr. Philips " is a grave, modest bachelor, and it is said is married to a 
Kingle life ; which I wonder at, for doubtless nature meant him a conqueror over 
3ill hearts, when she gave him such sense and such piety : his living so long a 
T>achclor shows his refined nature." Mr. Smith, near the Royal Exchange ; " his 
■Jair soul is tenant to a lovely and well-proportioned body.*' Mr. Harding is "of 
« lovely proportion, extremely well made, as handsome a mien and as ^ood an 
■«ir as perhaps few of his neighbours exceed him." Mr. Thomas Simmons, for- 
"Mnerly of Ludgate Street; ** his conjugal virtues have deserved to be set as an 
example to the primitive age." Mr. Harrison, by the Royal Exchange ; " his 
"person is of the middle size; his hair inclines to a brown, but his care and con- 
cern for his family \v\\\ soon chancre it into a white, at once the emblem of his 
innocence and his virtue.*' Mr. Jonathan Greenwood " is a rare example of 
^ronjugal love and chastity." Mr. Isaac Cleave, in Chancery Lane, " is a very 
chaste, modest man." Mr. Place, near Furnival'si Inn ; " his face is of a claret 
complexion, but himself is a very sober, pious man." Never, certainly, before or 
siincc. were all the graces, both of miud and body, so generally diffused among 
any class of men as among these old London booksellers. 

The greatest bookseller that had been in England for many years, according 
to Dunton. was the late Mr. George Sawbridge. He leil his four daughters 
portions of 10,000/. a-piece, and was succeeded in his business by his son of the 
Mmc names. The two most famous characters in the list are Jacob Tonson and 



Bernard Lintott, immorUlized by the asscxnation of their names with the writings 
and wrangUagB of Dryden and Pope, and the other wits and literary celebrities 
of that age. But there i^ nothing in the notice of either that is of much interest. 
Lintott Dunton affirms to bo a man uf very good principles. Tonson, he saysj 
" was boolcsellcr to the famona Drydcn, and ia himself a very good judge of 


portions and authors; and, as there is nobody more competently qualifisd to (rive 
their opinion of another, so there is none who does it with a more severe exact- 
ness or with less partiality ; fur, to do Mr. Tonson Justice, he speaks his mind 
u]>on all occasions, and will flatter nobody." 

One short paragraph is interesting as connecting the present time with the 
past, or at least u recent with a more distant age. Mr. Ballard " is,** says 
Dunton, '* a young bookseller in Little Britain; but is grown man in body now, 
but more in mind : — 

** Hia looks arc in the mother'a boauLy dre&ied. 
And all tlie father has infurnied his breast." 

This Mr. Ballard is said to have been the last survivor of the booksellers of 
Little Britain, and to have died in the samu house in which he began trade at 
the age of upwards of a hundred. If he lived, indeed, till about the year 1795, 
as is asserted in Nightingale's 'London and Middlesex,' he must have been con- 
siderably Tporo than a centenarian. But it is probable that there is a mistake 
of a few years in this date. It is not in 1729, as Nightingale supposes, but in 
1705. that Dunton speaks of Mr- Ballard as a young man rising in business. 

"Huge Lintott" and "Left-legged Jacub" are the only two of the four com- 
petitors in the immortal contests of the second iKiok of the 'Dunciad* that are 
mentioned by Dunton; the other two, Osborne and Curll, were as yet unknown 
to fame. Thomas Osborne, whose shop was the same that had been occupied 
by Lintott, under the gateway of Gray*s Inn, wasj we believoj a respectable 



enough man ; he is celebrated as the purchaser of the |irintcd books of the 
library of Harley Earl of Oxford, and the publisher of the Harlcian Miscellany, 
and also of two folio volumes of scarce Voyages and Travels, reprinted from 
that collection. Pope charges him with having cut down the folio copies of his 
Iliad to the size of the subscription copies, which were in quarto, and sold them 
as subscription copies; but he was probably not guilty of any such misrepre- 
sentation; if ho found that the public preferred the quarto to the folio size, he 
had a perfect right to cut down his books accordingly. The discomfiture, how- 
ever, to which the revengeful poet dooms him for this ingenious manoeuvre is, 
it must be admitted, inimitably happy and appropriate. 

The notorious Edmund Curll kept shop in Rose Street, Covent Garden, 
having Pope's Head for his sign. As the castigation bestowed on him in the 
glorious satire is more severe and merciless than that dealt out to any of his 
comrades in suffering, so his offence, or oflfcnces rather, had been much the 
most atrocious. He appears to have first thrown himself into collision with 
Pope by publishiug a duodecimo volume of early Letters written by the poet to 
bis friend Henry Cromwell, Esq., which that gentleman had given to Mrs. 
£liza Thomas, the " CurlPs Corinna" of the Dunciad, and which she had s^ld 
to Curll. This was in 1727- Four more volumes followed, under the title of 
* Mr. Pope's Literary Correspondence/ the last of which appeared in 1736; but 
in these there were only two or three genuine letters of Pope's : the rest of their 
contents consisted partly of forgeries in his name, but mostly of matter, much of 
it grossly indecent, which, notwithstanding the title-page, it was not even prc- 

^ tended in the body of the book that he had anything to do with. Curll, whose 
name has become a synonyme for every thing most disreputable in the trade of 
defamation and obscenity, richly deserved all he met with at Pope's hands. The 
only pity is that he probably would nut foci it — any more than he had felt hia 
exposure in the pillory a few years before for one of his atrocious publications— 
upon which occasion it is said that, by getting printed papers dispersed among 
the people telling them that he stood there for vindicating the memory of Queen 
Anne, he nut only saved himself from being pelted, but, when he was taken down, 
was carried off by the mob, as it were in triumph, to a neighbouring tavern. 

The early part of the eighteenth century, we have eaid, was still an age of 
pamphleteering. This system was first clfectually broken in upon by the inge* 

^nious and enterprising Edward Cave, who, conceiving the notion of substituting a 
•ingle vehicle of infurmation and discussion, to appear at regular intervals, for 
the numerous occasional papers which then constituted our ephemeral literature, 
brought out the first number of the ' Gentleman's Maga;:ine* on the 31st of 
January, 173L The speculation was immediately and eminently successful; the 
Magazine soon dried up the occasional papers, as the formation of a deep drain 
or reservoir of water does all the minor springs in its neighbourhood; and its 
founder, a man of humble origin, little education, and nobody to help him for- 
ward in the world but himself, was made rich and famous, as he deserved to be, 
by his lucky project. The ' Gentleman's Magazine'— now well entitled to be 
■lyied the ' Old Gentleman's Magazine' — still perseveres in coming out every 
month, with a tenacity of life, and constancy to early habits, above all praise. 



Pcrhapa the ncjct great rerolution in the commercial s}'8tom of our literature 
was that brought about by James Lackinjjton, of the Temple of the Muses m 
Finsbury Square, who may be called the father of cheap bookselling and rhesp 
reprinting. Laekington, also, like Cave, of obscure parentage, and the architect 
of his own fortunes, has himself told us the story of his rise to greatness in a 
very remarkable performance, entitled Memoirs of the First Forty-five Years 
of his Life. But he belongs to the subject, not of the Old but of the Modem 
booksellers of London ; for his book was first published at so late a date as 1791, 
and he lived till 1815. Though we cannot enter u]K)n his doings and character, 
however^ his eHigics may fitly enough close our paper. 





•fr<-Tfri-^„ A".'' ~ 


[Butot HftU. ftom the Sltmad.) 


Thr social principle applied in carrying out the designs of charity and bencTO- 
lencc is a remarkable feature of the present times. There arc so many objects 
of this nature which it is quite clear no single-handed exertions could compass 
that the union of numbers to eflect them must be reganled as an improvement 
of rast importance. It is this spirit of aggregation which has extended so widely 
the scope of philanthropic efforts, and given them a lart;er sphere of action. 
The entire world is grasped in the designs of modern philanthropy : the strength 
of individual charity has perhaps been weakened by the effort. In old times how 
splendid were its noble gifts and endowments. Though directed towards few 
objects^ the benefit conferred was generally substantial and often of striking 
vtilityt evincing a liberal and thoughtful public spirit which we cannot think of 
rithout A deep sense of admiration. Many of the founders of our grammar- 
schools* who perhaps came to London from some remote part of the country ia 
vou T. H 



early life, and raised themselves from indigence to wealth, marked their sense 
the blessings they had enjoyed by endowing au institution for education in their 
native place, where boys were to be instructed ** in learning and good manners;" 
or ** in grammar and other good learning ;*' or " freely and carefully taught and 
instructed;*' or " piously educated;" or instructed "in religion and good lite- 
rature." The number of these nurseries for youth in every part of England are 
noble monuments of the wisdom and charity of our ancestors. The schools which 
early in June every year pour forth their thousands into St. Pauls belong to 
nnothcr era in the history of educational charities, and such of thorn as arc en- 
dowed were mostly established during the last century, though two or three came 
into existence just at the close of the seventeenth century. The assemblage of 
the children took place for the iirst time in 1704, in St. Andrew's, Holbom, when 
2000 were present ; and subsequently they met at St. Bride's, Fleet Street. In 
1782, 5000 of the children assembled for the first lime at St. Paul's, where they 
have since annually been collected, and the cftVct of so large a number uniting 
their voices in the responses and the singing is highly impressive and afiectiog. 
That eccentric but powerful artist, Blake, was probably present at the anniver- 
sary of \7H'2, for in his singular little volume entitled ' Songs of Innocence,' ho 
has the following lines on the occasion: — 

" 'Twas on a Holy Thursday, tbeir innorcat Uce% clean. 
The children walking two and two, in red and blue and ^recn. 
Grey-headed beadles vvalk'd before wUh wanda as white as snow. 
Till into (lie high dome of Paul's Uiey like Thames' waters flow. 

** O* wliat a multitude they secm'd, these flowers of London town. 
Seated in companies they sit, with radiance all tlieir own ; 
The hum of muUitudes was xhere, but multitudes of lambs. 
Thoiiiianda of little boys and girls raising tlielr innocent liands. 

•* Now like a mighty wind they raise to heaven the voice of song, 
Or like h^rmumoua thundcrin(;:8 the seats of heaven among; 
BencHth them sit the a(;e<l men, wise guardians of the poor; 
Then cherish pity U-st yuu drive an angel from your door." 

Proceed we, however, to the more complicated schemes of modern charily, or 
at least those of them which naturally suggest themselves in connexion with 
Bxcter Hall ; and something must we say also of the general influence which ■ 
brings the place into importance as an actual and living part of our institutions, 
OA, in these days, a sort of '* fourth estate" of the realm. 

St< Stephen's is not better known as the scat of legislation than Exeter Hall as 
the recognised temple of modern philanthropy. The associations connected with 
it are peculiarly characteristic of an age which, in many respects, is marked and 
distinct from all other eras in the history of the national manners, and which had 
scarcely exhibited any of its phases half a century ago. He who would rightly esti- 
mate the present power and influence of our variotis institutions, must be blind 
if he omit all consideration of the moral and religious feelings which are concen- 
trated at Exeter Hall, and there find a voice which is heard from one extremity 
of the kingdom to the other. In order clearly to understand that the spirit which 
animates the frequenters of this place is distinctly a feature of the present age, 
we must go back to the period when Exeter Hall was not, before Freemasoni* 





^{alt or the Crown and Anchor had resounded with the plaudits of the religious 
and benevolent, even before the " religious world" itself existed. We must 
retrace briefly the progress and the efflux of improvement in manners and habiU, 
for at times the tide has advanced, and then again it has receded. 

The supremacy of the Puritans, and their fervour of spirit, might, under more 
g-cnial circumstances, have produced enlarged and compreheasive schemes of 
benevolence such as we now see ; but, as it wai», under the influence of political 
and religious fanaticism combined, zeal degenerated into bigotry, and warmth of 
devotion into a narrow ascetism. A more healthy tone would have succeeded 
this fever, no doubt, but the national feeling of merry England revolted against 
the puritanical system, and then succeeded by way of reaction the trifling and 
profligate temper of the Restoration. The thoughtless spirit both of the court 
and the country, at this period, were altogether incompatible with earnest moral 
efforts of any kind. The Revolution checked the light-heartednessof the nation, 
which had been already over-shadowed by the gloomy character of James II. In 
the reign of Anne a more zealous religious temper again prevailed. In 1692 
•ocietics were instituted for the reformation of manners, which dealt much in 
vaxrants, and placed too great a reliance on the constable. In 1688 the Society 
for Promoting Christian Knowledge, now the most venerable institution of the 
kind, was established for the education and religious instruction of the poor in 
the principles of the Established Church. In June, 1701, the Society for the 
Propagation of the Gospel in Foreign Parts, which had been already some time 
in existence, was incorporated, its chief members being the prelates and digni- 
taries of the Established Church, and some of the most eminent persons in the 
State. In the third year, after it had received its Charter, the receipts amounted 
to 864/. ; and the first printed list of subscribers, in 1718, contained 260 names. 
The British Colonies are to be understood as the " Foreign Parts,*' to which 
the Society confined its operations. The year before it was incorporated, the 
question of counteracting the political influence of the French Missionaries in 
Canada was much agitated, and partly from political motives, as well as from feci, 
tuga of interest in their welfare, the Society's first cflbrls for the conversion of the 
heathen were made among the American Indians ; but at a very early period the 
Society gave its support to the Danish Foreign Mission^ which was commenced 
under Frederic IV., about 1705, and sent spiritual labourers to the Danish settle- 
ments in India. The reports of these missionaries were translated from the 
Danish, and for many years published annually in England, under the title of 
'• A Brief Account of the Measures taken in Denmark for the Conversion of the 
Heathen.*' Nearly a century elapsed after the establishment of the Society for 
the Propagation of the Gospel before any kindred institution arose in England. 
The existence of the two Societies above-mentioned, and of those for the reforma- 
tion of manners, is a proof of a more zealous spirit having partially found its way 
into the Church, and also to some, though not perhaps to any great extent, into 
society generally. But it is unquestionable that the reigns of the First and 
Second Georges were characterised by an extraordinary degree of apathy in the 
Church, and amongst the higher classes, on religious, moral, and social questions. 
At length the zeal and energy of Wesley and Whiteficld aroused the Church from 
ita slumbers, and it began slowly to awaken to a sense of the duties required from 




it. aiifl from all who enjoyed wealth and influence; but not until the reli^on* 
fervour of the poorer classes had been already powerfully excited by the system 
of Methodism, and they were ready to point indignantly at the Church as an 
obstacle rather than a guide. There needed yet a relig^iuus regenerator, whose 
voice would be listened to in high places, for there the moral insensibility was as 
dull as ever. At the period which just preceded the French Revolution, *' the 
gay and busy world were almost ignorant of Christianity, amidst the lukewarm- 
nessand apathy which possessed the very watchmen of the faith."* Amongst the 
most conspicuous of those who endeavoured to regenerate the national spirit were 
Wilberforce and Hannah More- Wilbcrforcc proposed to form an association, 
tike its precursor in iG^J'i, to resist the spread of open immorality. His plan was. 
in the first instance, to obtain a Royal proclamation against vice, and then to form 
an association for carrying it into effect Writing to Mr Hey, of Leeds, in May, 
1787, he announces that in a few days he would hear of " a proclamation being 
issued for the discouragement of vice, of letters being written by the Secretaries 
of State to the Lords Lieutenant, expressing his Majesty's pleasure that they re- 
commend it throughout their several counties, to be active in the execution of the 
laws against immoralities, and of a Society being formed in London for the pur- 
pose of carry into effect his Majesty's good and generous intentions .... The 
objects to which the Committee will direct their attention are the offences spe- 
cified in the proclamation, — profanation of the Sabbath, swearing, drunkenness, 
licentious publications, unlicensed places of public amusement, the regulation of 
licensed places, &c.*' He mentions in this letter that he had received a formal 
invitation to cards, for Sunday evening, from a person high in the king's service. 
In June, Wilberforce was visiting the bishops in their respective dioceses, as he 
wished to communicate with them separately, " lest the scruples of a few might 
prevent the acquiescence of the rest." His sons state, in the biography of their 
father, that '* the Society was soon in active and useful operation. The Duke of 
Montagu opened his house for its reception, and presided over its meetings, — a 
post which was filled after his death by the late Lord (Chancellor) Bathurst. who 
was followed by Bishop Porteus; and before its dissolution it had obtained many 
valuable Acts of Parliament, and greatly checked the spread of blasphemous and 
indecent publications." Its existence was, at all events, a proof that the apathy 
of former years was passing away. In 1 788 Hannah More published ' Thoughts 
on the Manners of the Great.' with a view of inducing fhem to reflect on the 
levity of many uf their pursuits In fact this class began to be seriously annoyed 
at the invasion of their pleasures by the greater strictness which public opinion 
cow demanded from them. In 1791 Hannah More again endeavoured to arouse 
attention by her ' Estimate of the Religion of the Fashionable World.* In 179G 
she had commenced writing the first of the modern religious tracts. Bishop 
Porteus, writing to her in January, 1797, says, " The sublime and immortal pub- 
lication, of the ' Cheap Repository,' I hear of from every quarter of the globe." 
Two millions of these tracts were disposed of in the first year. In 1797, Wilber- 
force published his ' Practical Christianity,' a work which had undoubtedly a 
great effect on the higher classt-s. Within half a year, five editions, of altogether 


• • Life of Wilberforee," ty Vi* Sam. 


7500 copies, were printed. This popularity is to be attributed partly to the 
author's intimate friendship with Mr. Pitt, and his connexiun with the most dis- 
tinguished men of the day, and partly also to the warmer and more earnest moral 
I spirit which began to prevail. In 1798 attempts at legislative interference 
having been dropped, Wilberforce was active in inducing persons of the higher 
ranks to adopt a voluntary engagement to promote the observance of the Sabbath. 
Hannah Mure, writing from Bishop Porteu8*s, at Fulham, in 1797, says, *' The 
• Morning Chronicle/ and other piouit luvwpnpers, have laboured to throw such a 
stigma on the association for the better observance of the Sunday, that the timid 
great are steering off, and very few indeed have signed." The Bishop of Durham 
laid the declaration before George III, ; but Wilberforce states in his * Diary,* 
that the king " turned the conversation." Wilberforce himself waited upon the 
Speaker to induce him to give up his Sunday parliamentary dinners, but the 
first Commoner in the land grew angry, and took his interference as a personal 
insult. In 1799 a bill was brought into Parliament for the suppression of Sunday 
newspapers, which Pitt promised to support, but Dundas induced him to retract 
his pledge, on the plea that three out of the four Sunday newspapers supported 
the ministry; and after Sheridan's gibes at the measure it was thrown out on the 
second reading. Hannah More relates a more hopeful incident on the authority 
of I<ady Cremornc, who told her that on coming down stairs on Sunday morning 
at eight o^clock. she found " Admiral C, another Admiral, and a General, with 
their Bibles, each separately, in different parts of the room, and so at times all 
the day.'* Then, in 1805^ seven years afterwards, she writes from Fulham that 
the Bishop of London was making a stand against Sunday concerts. " He has," 
she says. " written an admirable letter^ very strong and very pious, but tem- 
perate and well-mannered, to all the great ladies concerned in this un-Christian 
practice. They have in general behaved well, and promised amendment." Again 
writing from Fulham, in 1809, she says that the Bishop (Porteus) having heard 
of the institution of a club, under the patronage of the Prince of Wales, which 
was to meet on a Sunday, he asked for an audience to entreat the Prince to fix on 
some other day. *' Su]>ported by two servants, and hardly able to move with 
their assistance, he got to the apartment of the Prince, and with agitated earnest- 
ness conjured him to fix on some other day for this meeting. The Prince re- 
ceived him most graciously, seemed much affected, said it was not a new institu- 
tion, and that it was founded on charity, but that if the day could be changed to 
Saturday it should." A few months before, Perceval, the Prime Minister, had 
been induced to alter the day for Parliament meeting, which, as it was to have 
been Monday, would have involved the necessity of a great amount of Sunday 
travelling. Wilberforce drew his attention to this circumstance, and the Minister 
apologized foT the inadvertency ; and two days after he wrote to Wilberforce, 
stating that the meeting was postponed to Thursday, ** to obviate the objections 
which you have suggested." In his ' Diary,' Wilberforce says, " The House 
put off nobly by Perceval, because of the Sunday travelling it would occasion.*' 
Sunday card-parties and Sunday concerts amongst the higher classes are now un- 
heard of; as the more thoughtful views which this class entertain, as well as 
the general state of public opinion, have put an end to such a mode of spending 
any portion of the Sunday. 



There are two sutjecls involving religious, moral, and political consideratione, 
on which the stricter (and in so many things jusler) spirit of the last fifty years 
has exercised a most important influence. The death-blow of slavery may be 
said to have proceeded from Exeter Hall ; and the abolition of capital punish- 
ment, except for atrocious crimes, is the result of the same religious feeling. 
Seventy years ago Granville Sharpe proved slavery to be illegal in England. 
Sixty years ago Bishop Porteus preached against the Slave Trade. A quarter 
of a century elapsed, and in 1 807, after arduous struggles, the trade is abolished. 
Another quarter of a century runs its course, and in 1833 an Act is passed for 
emancipating every slave in the British dominions. The agitation of this ques- 
tion for seventy years, the diacussiaus to which it led of the rights of humanity 
and the principles of justice and Christianity, were singularly favourable to the 
development of the peculiar spirit which has its altars at Exeter Hall. For 
some years the struggle was chiefly confined to Parliament, aided by friends of 
abolition here and there. The public were spectators rather than actors, deeply 
interested ones no doubt, but not assembling in '* conventions" and great " aboli- 
tion meetings,*' to concentrate public opinion in its utmost strength, as they have 
done since the formation of the Anti-Slavery Society in 1823. It was in 1792 
that many of the friends of abolition determined to abstain from the consumption 
of West India produce, so long as it was raised by slaves. "We use East 
Indian sugar entirely," writes Mr. Babington to Mr. Wilberforce, *' and so do 
full two-thirds of the friends of abolition in Leicester." Mr. W. Smith says to 
Wilberforce, ''Please to take notite that I have left off" sugar completely and 
entirely for some time past, and shall certainly persevere in my resolution, though 
I am not yet at all reconciled to the deprivation of the most favourite gratifica- 
tion of my palate." Associations were rapidly formed to stop the consumption 
of West India produce, and Wilberforce, it appears, was at first disposed to re- 
commend this course, but he afterwards decided '* that it should be suspended 
until, if necessary, it might bo adopted with effect by general concurrence/' 
The struggle excited a bitterness of feeling amongst some of the West Indian 
body which fifty years ago showed itself in ways calculated to astonish those who 
are accustomed to the more tolerant spirit of the present day. " The box in 
which our petition is enclosed," says a Glasgow correspondent to Mr. Wilber- 
force, "has been directed to another, that its contents may be unsuspected-** 
Residents in Liverpool, of the same rank in life as Dr. Currie, asked of Mr. 
Wilberforce, " If you write, be pleased to direct without franking it." The 
biographers of Wilberforce state that the unti slavery corrcsi>ondence was in 
many instances conducted " in unsigned letters, sent under the covers of unsus- 
pected persons." In a letter which did not at all allude to West Indian matters, 
and was therefore ojienly transmitted to Mr. Wilberforce, Dr. Currie adds this 
postscript, *' Trusting this letter to our post-ofiicc with your address, I shall be 
anxious to hear of its safe arrival." Besides the selfishness of traders there 
were other obstacles to be encountered, and the strength of tlie parliamentary 
opposition may be judged of from the fact that in 1804 four of the royal family 
came down to the House of Lords to vote against the abolition of the Slave 
Trade: it had, however, been carried in the Commons. 

The amelioration of our sanguinary criminal laws encountered difficulties 



almost as great as those wliich retarded the abolition of the Slave Trade. It is 
but justice to state that in 1750 a committee of the House of Commons on the 
laws relating to felonies rq)ortcd " that it was reasonable to exchange the 
punishment of death for some other reasonable piiniahment;" and a Bill founded 
on this resolution passed the House of Commons, but was rejected by the Lords. 
The question rested here for above half a century, until, in 1808, Sir Samuel 

1 Bomilly brought forward his first motion for the reform of the criminal laws, and 
an Act was passed for abolishing the punishment of death for pocket-picking 
(stealing privately from the person to the value of five shillings). In 1810 Sir 
Samuel Romilly's Bill to abolish capital punishment for the crime of stealing 
privately in a shop to the amount of five shillings was rejected in the House of 
I/ords by a majority of 31 to 11. In the majority were not fewer than seven 
prelates, namely, the Archbishop of Canterbury, the Bishops of London and 
Salisbury, Dampier, Bishop of Ely, Luxmore, Bishop of Hereford, Sparke, the 
new Bishop of Chester, and Porter, an Irish bishop. It was alleged as a reason 
for not going further that the crime of pocket-picking had alarmingly increased 
since the capital punishment for it had been abolished j but it was forgotten that 
the increased number of convictions was rather a proof of the success of the 
former measure, for the previous inordinate severity of the law prevented those 
who had been robbed from prosecuting, and crime was encouraged by impunity. 
In 1813 the Bill to repeal the Shoplifting Act was again thrown out in the 
Lords, and two royal dukes and five bishops were in the majority, with the Lord 
Chancellor and the ministers. In 1816, although the measure had several times 

'passed the Commons, it was still pending ; and on Komilly bringing it forward 
this year, he stated that a boy of only ten years of age had been convicted at 
the Old Bailey under the Act, and was then lying under sentence of death in 
Newgate ; and he drew attention to the fact, because, some time before, the Re- 
corder of London had declared from the bench that it was the determination of 
the Prince Regent, in consequence of the number of boys who had been lately 
detected in committing felonies, to make an example of the next offender of this 
description. A few months afterwards a boy of sixteen was actually hung at 
Newgate for highway robbery. The Bill was again rejected. In February, 
1818, it was again brought in by its author, who alluded to the ill success of 
excessive severity in repressing forgery ; for though the Crown seldom pardoned, 
the offence was rapidly increasing. Sir Samuel Romilly died in the autunm of 
the same year, and the progress of enlightened opinion has enabled others to 
carry out his benevolent views, while time has proved that they were not less 
benevolent than practically successful in securing the object at which he aimed. 
In 1819, 20, *2i, 2*2, there were 426 persons executed in England and Wales, 
and in the four years ending with 1841, only 36. Persons being less reluctant to 
prosecute, the number of convictions has increased from 58 to 72 out of every 
100 offenders. The proportion of atrocious offences Itas been gradually 
diminishing, and those against property committed without violence have in- 

, creased fVom 73 per cent, in 1834 to 79 per cent, in 1841. These facts show 
that, on some important questions, there is not only the enthusiasm of warm and 
generous tempers in the Exeter Hall spirit, but at times excellent sense and 
sound philosophy. The State Lotteries fell before the same power. Lastly, the 




cruel practices connected with tlie employment of climbing boys in sweeping 
chimneys have been aboliBhtd. 

It must be confessed that a dilettanti spirit of enthusiasm and benevulencej 
which disregards the attainment of practical objects by plain means, is sometimes 
rather too prominent at Kxeter Hall, though it is true that the influential leaders 
here are generally at the same time conspicuous for their activity in promoting 
good works generally ; but this is scarcely sufficient to redeem the mass from the 
charge of an insensibility to evils less remote than those which, in many instances, 
exclusively bring their sympathies into full play. Carried away by the grandeur 
of the object they propose to accomplish, they are led to applaud ill-considered 
and impracticable modes of attaining it. This is very creditable perha]}« to their 
feelings, warmed into excitement by declamatory appeals under which the imagi- 
nation becomes too powerful for the reason and intelligence of the listeners. Thus 
the famous Niger expedition, with its model farms and apparatus and schemes 
fur civilizing Africa, linds favour at Exeter Hall, while the safe and practical 
plan set on foot by the government for promoting the emigration of the natives 
of Africa to the British Colonies in the West, and who, after acquiring a higher 
civilization, anil valuable knowledge of the arts of life, would return to Africa to 
disseminate in that barbaric land the seeds of improvement ; — this is a measure, 
though protected by every necessary check which can be thought of, which is 
loudly denounced. From Kxcter Hall the view of remote evils is more distinct than 
of those which lie everywhere around us. The eye pierces, as well as it can, into 
the obscure horizon, but does not behold the objects at hand which stand broadly 
in the full daylight, because its gaze, though embracing the furthest limits of the 
globe, is not directed downward as wcU. This characteristic has led a nervous 
and powerful writer into one of his striking apostrophes: — '^' O Anti-Slavery 
Convention/* he exclaims, "loud-sounding, long-cared Exeter Hallt But in 
thee too is a kind of instinct towards justice, and 1 will complain of nothing. Only 
black Quashee over the seas being once suHlciently attended to, wilt not thou 
perhaps open thy dull sodden eyes to the hunger-stricken, pallid, yellow coloured 
• free labourers' in Lancashire, Yorkshire, Buckinghamshire, and all other shires? 
These yellow-coloured for the present absorb all my sympathies : if 1 had 
twenty millions, with model farms and Niger exjieditions, it is to these that 1 
would give them. Quashee has already victuals, clothing ; Quashee is not dying 
of such despair as the yellow-coloured pale man's. Quashee, it must be owned, ia 
hitherto a kind of blockhead. The Haiti Duke of Marmalade, educated now for 
almost half a century, seems to have next to no sense in him. Why, in one of those 
Lancashire weavers, dying of hunger, there is mure thought and heart, a greater 
arithmetical amount of misery and desperation, than in whole gangs of Quashecs. 
It must be owned, thy eyes are of the sodden sort ; and with thy emancipations, 
and thy twcnty-miUionings. and long-cared clamourings, thou, like Robespierre 
with his pasteboard Eire Sujjreme, threatenest to become a bore to us, * Avtcton 
Rtrc Supreme iu commt-ncea mcmbeter i" *' * Thus much it may be remarked in 
delunce of Kxeter Hall. — thai as the consideration of domestic evils can rarely bo 
separated from questions to which a political character, whether rightly or wrongly, 
is given, it may be that raost of those who, in moral and religious questions, dis- 

• Mr. Carlyltf'a ' Put Kiiil ]'rvwiit.* 




plav such strong and fervid feelings, fear nevertheless to plunge into the agitated 
Waters of jKiUtics, and content themselves with exertions of a private nature. 

We have, however, paused too long on the threshold, and will now notice 
Exeter Hall itself. Jn \b'29 the Strand was deformed by an ill-shaped clumsy 
building ealled Exeter 'Change, of which an atcount has already been given.* 
The wild beasts at Exeter 'Change were lions of the town quite as much as those 
of the Tower. The menagerie was removed in 1832. " Passing one day," says 
Mr. Leigh Hunt, " by Exeter 'Change, we beheld a sight strange enough to wit- 
ness in 11 great thoroughfare — a fine horse startled, and pawing the ground, at the 
roar of lions and tigers. It was at the time probably when the beasts were being 
fed." When it was determined to pull down the old 'Change and widen the 
street, several persons of influence in the religious world proposed a scheme for 
building a targe edifice, which should contain rooms of ditfereut sizes, to be ap- 
propriated exclusively to the uses of religious and benevolent societies, especially 
for their anniversary meetings, with committee-rooms and offices for several 
societies whose apartments were at that time crowded in houses taken for the 
purpose, as is the case at present with several scientific bodies, who might take a 
hint OD the subject, and erect a large building for their joint accommodation. 
Exeter Halt was completed in 1S31. It attracts little attention from the pas- 
senger, as the frontage is very narrow, and the exterior simply consists of a loftj 
portico formed of two handsome Corinthian pillars, with a flight of steps from 
the street to the Hall door. But when any great meeting is assembled, or is 
about to break up, there is no mistaking the place. The building stretches 
backward and extends to the right and left a considerable space. The Strand 
entrance leads to a wide passage, which at the extremity branches off into 
transverse jiassages. Two flights of steps, which meet atbove, lead to the 
great Hall, ninety feet broad, one hundred and thirty-eight long, and forty-eight 
high. It will hold four thousand persons, and, with scarcely any discomfort, 
a much larger number. The ranges of one half the seats rise in an amphi- 
thcatrical form, and the filatform, at one end, is raised about six feet, and will 
accommodate five hundred persons. The *' chair " in the front is not unlike 
that of Edward the Confessor in Westminster Abbey. The speaVers, near the 
front, arc accommodated with chairs, behind which rise rows of benches. Two 
flights of steps extend from the front row to the entrances at the back. Eight 
or nine years ago the capacity of the great Hall was enlarged by the erection of 
a gallery ai the end opposite the platform, and two or three years afterwards the 
curve of the platform on each side was extended into galleries reaching a con- 
siderable distance into the middle of the room along the walls. When the Hall 
is quite filled the sight is grand and striking. An habitual attendant at Exeter 
Hall, in his 'Recollections,' has described the (to him) familiar aspect of the 
place on these occasions: — *' The finest view is from the deep recesses behind the 
platform. Below you lies the platform, slanting downwards, and extending into 
a crescent shape, with its crowds sitting or standing ; beyond them is the large 
flat surface of the area, its close benches all filled, and the avenues among thcro 
occupied by chairs or by persons who are fain to stand for want of sitting-room. 
Behind this are the raised scats, gradually appearing one behind another, and 
occupying a space equal to half the size of the whole room ; all again fully 
_ • No. ,\.\X.VJ., vol. ii., 1., I7L 




crowded, and the dcsccndmg steps among the benches filled by the standing 
multitude. Over their heads, the whole scene is crowned by the back gallery, 
at a height oF many feet. Those who wish to realise the idea of ' a sea of heads ' 
should take this view of Exeter Hall on some popular occasion. When such an 
assembly rises, for prayer or praise, at the beginning or end of a meeting, the 
sight is still more stu]jenclous, and the degree of sound they arc able to produce, 
in the way of cheering or singing, is almost incredible. There have been occa- 
sions when that vast room has rung with the -voices of those assembled within its 
walls; and a second peal of cheers succeeding, before the echos of the first have 
died away, the noise altogether has been of a nature that few persons could hear 
onmoved." Underneath the great Hall is a smaller one, with a gallery and 
platform adapted to the size of the apartment, but it has no raised seats. There 
arc sometimes meetings in both halls at the same time, and the acclamations of 
the larger audience reverberating in the smaller hall, a speaker unaccustomed 
to the plac« perhaps pauses until the plaudits have died away, thinking they 
proceeded from the audience he was addressing. From April to the end of May 
about thirty different societies hold their anniversary meetings at Exeter Hall, 
either in the larger or smaller hall, the latter of which will hold about a 
thousand persons; and there is one still smaller which will hold about a 
fourth of this number. On great occasions the street entrance is often crowded 
for some time before the doors are opened, which ia usually about two hours 
before the chair is taken. Instances have occurred in which persons have 
been waiting for the opening of the doors from the early hour of seven in the 
morning. To fill up the vacant time, books and ncwspa|>ers are resorted to, and 
even needle-work is taken out; but in general, if the visitor arrive an hour 
before the chair is taken, there will be no difficulty in obtaining room. The 
number of tickets issued is always greater than the Hall will contain, as those 
experienced in such matters are able to form a tolerably correct estimate of the 
number who, from various circumstances, will not be able to attend. A singular 
instance of mistaken reckoning on this point occurred on Thursday, the Isl of 
June, 1843, when the largest meeting assembled which had ever been known at 
Exeter Hall. The weather had been for some time so unfavourable that about 
ten thousand tickets were issued, under the idea that a full meeting would not 
be obtained without making an unusually large allowance for the absence of 
those whose attendance would be prevented by the weather ; but the object of 
the meeting was felt to be so important that the muster was two or three times 
as great ua was anticipated, and though the smaller hall received the ovcrflow- 
mgs of the larger one, there were still two or three thousand persons who could 
not gain admittance after the doors were opened at eight o'clock in the morning. 
Many of these assembled at Great Queen Street Chapel, which was filled by about 
fifteen hundred persons. The object of the meeting is interesting as an illustration 
of the Exeter Hall spirit, being for the purpose of promoting Christian union 
among the different religious bodies in thia country. On the platform were to 
be seen clergymen of the Established Church and ministers of all the dissenting 
communities of Christians, A report was read in whicli the desire was expressed 
that the meeting should "forget their distinctive opinions in the contemplation 
of their common Christianity as a sufficient ground of fraternal regard and con- 
fidence." The document went on to say that " no practical object is connected 






vith this meeting. It has been felt to be necessary^ first, to raise the tone of 
Chrutian feeling and commumon> by confining attention to the object already 
stated ; and by exercises of a hallowed nature, adapted to promote it. in the 
hope that our combining together in any great movement, either for the defence 
or propagation of the common faith, might thus be rendered more practical, and 
more likely to be of a sound and lasting character." The enthusiasm which pre- 
Tails at meetings of this kind, and at the " May meetings*' generally, would sur- 
prise most persons. A large proportion of those present are females of that 
portion of the middle classes who are in easy circumstances, who are shut out by 
Iheir views, opinions, and habits from many of the common sources of emotion. 
At Exeter Hall, their sympathies are powerfully exercised ; the range of subjects 
in whicli they are most conversant arc dwelt upon with exciting interest; the 
imagination is awakened, and distant objects are viewed in an enchanted light. 
Considering the topics of declamation which abound at Exeter Hall, many of 
them truly grand in their scope and character, it is not at all wonderful that 
their discussion should inflame the mind and kindle the religious and moral 
feelings of the hearers. In scenes like those witnessed at Exeter Hall, there is, 
M Wilberforcc remarks, " a moral sublimity which, if duly estimated, would be 
worthy of the tongues of angels." The artist 6nds in such scenes a great suj}- 
ject for the pencil. It is sufficient to refer to Haydon's Picture of the Great 
Meeting of Delegates for the Abolition of Slavery and the Slave Trade through- 
out the World, held in June, 1840, under the presidency of the venerable 
Clarkson. The artist left his painting-room unwillingly, in the belief that the 
scene would be one of a very common-place character. The account of his visit 
is graphic and striking, and we give an extract from it as being calculated to 
familiarize the reader with the general spirit of a groat religious meeting. " In 
a few minutes an unaffected man got up, and informed the meeting that 'I'homaa 
Clarkson would attend shortly : he begged no tumultuous applause would greet 
his entrance, as his infirmities were great, and he was too nervous to bear, 
without risk of injury to his health, any such expressions of their good feeling 
towards him. The Friend who addressed them was Joseph Sturgc, a man whose 
whole life has been devoted to ameliorate the condition of the unhappy. In a 
few minutes, the aged Clarkson came in, grey and bent, leaning on Joseph Sturge 
for support, and approached with feeble and tottering steps the middle of the 
convention. I had never seen him before, nor had most of the foreignera 
present; and the anxiety to look on him, betrayed by all, was exceedingly un- 
affected and sincere. Immediately behind Thomas Clarkson were his daughter- 
in-law, the widow of his son, and his little grandson. Aided by Joseph Sturge 
and his daughter, Clarkson mounted to the chair, sat down in it as if to rest, 
and then, in a tender, feeble voice, appealed to the assembly for a few minutes* 
meditation before he opened the convention. The venerable old man put his 
bund simply to his forehead, as if in prayer, and the whole assembly followed his 
example ; for a minute there was the most intense silence I ever felt. Having 
inwardly uttered a short prayer, he was again helped up; and bending forward, 
leaning on the table, he spoke to the great assembly as a patriarch standing 
near the grave, or as a kind father who felt an interest for his children. Every 
word he uttered was from his heart — he spoke tenderly, tremulously ; and, in 
alluding to Wilberforce, acknowledged, just as an aged man would acknowledge, 



his decay of inctnory in forgetting many other dear friends whom he con 
then recollect. After solemnly urging the members to persevere to the last, till 
slavery was extinct, lifting his arm and pointing to heaven (his face quivering 
with emotion), he ended by saying. ' May the Supreme Huler of all human 
events, at whose disposal arc not only the hearts but the intellects of men — may 
Hc> in His abundant mercy, guide your councils and give His blessing upon 
your labours.' There was a pause uf a moment, and then, without an inter- 
change of thought or even of look, the whole of this vast meeting, men and 
women, said, io a tone of subdued and deep feeling. 'Amen ! Amen !' To the 
reader not present it is scarcely possible to convey without affectation the effect 
on the imagination of one who. like myself, had never attended benevolent 
meetings, had no notion of such deep sincerity in any body of men> or of the 

awful and unaffected piety of the class I had been brought amongst I 

have seen the most afflicting tragedies, imitative and real ; but never did I wit- 
ness, in life or in the drama, so deep, so touching, so pathetic an effect produced 
on any great assembly as by the few, unaffected, unsopliisttcated> natural, and 
honest words of this aged and agitated person. The women wept — the men 
shook off their tears, unable to prevent their flowing ; for myself, I was so affected 
and so astonished, that it was many minutes before I recovered, sufficiently to 
perceive the moment of interest I had longed for had come to pass — and this 
was the moment I immediately chose for the picture." This Anti-Slavery 
Convention was succeeded by the annual meeting of the British and Foreign 
Anti-Slavery Society, at which the late Duke of Sussex presided. Clarkson 
was present, also Monsieur Guizot and Mrs. Fry, and many persons whose 
services in the Anti-Slavery cause are known in every part of the world. 
Amongst the speakers were an American judge, an English missionary, a French 
philanthropist, and a man of colour. In the following year Prince Albert made 
his fiTNt a|>pearance at any public meeting in England. The great hall was filled 
two hours before the proceedings commenced, and the platform was crowded by 
some of the most distinguished men in England. Ihe meeting was that of the 
Society for the Extinction of the Slave Trade, and the Civilization of Africa. 

The speakers at the " May meetings*' comprise a few of the Members of both 
Houses of Parliament ; at the Church Missionary Society, and the Bible Society 
anniversaries, some of the bishops ; at the meetings of other denominations* 
the leading men in each, Persons of provincial celebrity make their (A'6w/ before 
a London audience; and the variety and peculiarities of the speakers arc a suffi- 
ciently tempting theme to the critical among the fair sex. In one year Wilberforce 
attended ten of these meetings in as many days, and spoke twelve times. To a 
man of strong philanthropic feelings, and of sufficient consideration to attract the 
public eye, especially also if he be a Huent speaker, and have the business habits 
which constitute a good '* committee-man," the various religious and benevolent 
institutions in London open a very active field of exertion and usefulness. The 
Exeter Hall class of societies so entirely depend upon the principle of aggrega- 
licn, that to gain influence in the direction of their operations and affairs nccca- 
sarily presumes the existence in some degree of qualilications which in another 
popular body leads to the highest distinctions. But however eminent and influ- 
ential any of the well-known speakers and leaders at Exeter Hall may l>e, their 
fume 1!$ circumscribed and limited to a wurld of its own, unless ihev hupuen to 









have Achieved importance in some other sphere ; and out of their own region they 
would be unknown if the newspaperB did not make the public familiar with their 
names; ihougli a large territory, no doubt it is. in which they find enthusiastic 
admirers, and wherein they are appreciated. Then again, to the world at large, 
Exetvr Hall is only regarded as a single arena, whereas it is one field with many 
encampments of distinct tribes ; or, as a writer lately remarked, " The manner 
in which they club and congregate, and yet keep apart in distinct groups, reminds 
one of the rival orders in the Church of Rome. Jesuits, Franciscans, Dominicans, 
Monks, Friars, and Canons regular — all had their independent organization; all 
were rivals, though zealous members and supporters of one Church. And Wes- 
leyan. Church, Baptist Missionary Societies— all maintain a certain degree of 
reserve towards each other ; all are jealous of the claims of rival sects ; and yet 
arc all attracted by a common sense of religious earnestness. The independent 
and often mutually repelling bodies who congregate in Exeter Hall arc one in 
spirit, with all their ditTerences. Without a pervading organization, they area 
Church." • 

The first three days of May in the present year (IH43) were each the anniver- 
saries of une uf the great religious societies. On the 1st, the Wesleyan Missionary 
Society held its meeting, which was addressed by a converted American Indian 
io bis native costume. The income of the Society for the preceding year was 
98,252/., and the Report stated that it supports '265 principal mission stations. 
On the following day the meeting of the Church Missionary Society took place. 
The income fur 1842-3 was 115,000/. The next day was the anniversary of the 
British and Foreign Bible Society, the most Catholic of all the religious societies. 
On the 1 2th of March, 1604, when a committee met to complete the organization 
of the new institution, a mution was made to appoint the Rev. Joseph Hughes 
to the office of secretary, but was opposed by the Rev. J. Owen, who urged the 
impolicy of constituting a dissenting minister the secretary of an institution 
which was to unite the whole body of Christiana. This led to an arrangement, 
the principle of which was at once so judicious and liberal that it has constituted 
one of the chief corner stones of the Society's stability and success. Three secre- 
taries were appointed — a clergyman, a dissenting minister, and a foreign secretary, 
in order that the foreign churches might be represented in the Society. Thus, as 
Mr. Owen, the historian of the Bible Society, remarks. " The progress of an hour 
carried the committee on, from the hasty suggestions of a short-sighted attach- 
ment to the wise determination of a liberal policy." At the same time, the future 
proportion of churchmen, dissenters, and foreigners in the governing body was 
distinctly defined. It consists of six foreigners resident in or near the metropolis, 
fifteen churchmen, and fifteen dissenters, the whole of the thirty-six being lay- 
men. The first meeting of the Society was held on the 2nd of May, 1804, when 
Losd Trignmouth was appointed president, and on the following day four of 
the bishops sent in their names as subscribers. The Bible Society has 2870 
affiliated societies in this country, of which lOl were formed in 1842. In 1810, 
six years after the establishment of the Parent Society, there were but eleven 
branch Societies in existence, and the annual income was only 18.543/. Ten 
years afterwards, in 1820, the income amounted to 123,547/. The Bible So- 

* ' Specutur.* 



ciety has issued about fifteen million copies of the Scriptures, and it haB caxued 
Ihein to be translated, either wholly or in part, into the languages " of every 
nation under heaven." The Baptist Missionary Society celebrated its fiftieth 
anniversary in i84'2. by the collection of a fund called the Jubilee Fund, nhich 
amounted to 3'2,500/., and the ordinary receipts for 1842-3 were 21,J98/., making 
a total of upwards of 63,000/. raised b)' a comparatively small and not wealthy 
body. The Baptist Missionary Society was the first which sprung up in England 
after an interval of nearly a century from the establishment of the Society for the 
Propagation of the Gospel. It was succeeded in 1795 by the London Missionary, 
which also holds its anniversaries at Exeter Hall. At the last meeting, May Uth, 
the income of this Society for the past year was stated to be 78,450/., and its ex- 
penditure 85,412/. Altogether a sum of about 400,000/. a-year is annually col- 
lected for missions, and as a very large amount is obtained in small sums, tho 
number of contributore must be prodigious. In 1822, tho income of the Church, 
Wesleyan, and London Missionary Societies was 98,000/.; but it is now triple 
this amount. Besides the Missionary Societies, there are kindred institutions, 
whose object is to supply the want of religious instruction at home. The Bap- 
liBt Home Missionary Society has an income of above 5000/., and tho Home 
Missionary Society of above 9000/. The Church Pastoral Aid Society (income 
19,000/.). and the Clerical Aid Society (income 7818/.), both in connexion with 
the Established Church, are designed to provide more adequately for the reli- 
gious wants of the people in populous districts. The Society for the Pro- 
pagation of Christianity amongst the Jews has an income of 25,000/. a-year. 
The Bible Society circulates the Scriptures alone, but there arc other Societies 
which undertake the distribution of works of a religious and moral nature. 
The Society for Promoting Christian Knowledge, with an annual income of 
about 100,000/., circulates nearly four million pubUcations in the course of tho 
year, of which about three millions arc tracts. The Religious Tract Society, 
established in 1798, has an income of above 50,000/., of which less than 6000/. 
is derived from voluntary contributions, the remainder being the produce of 
sales of publications, which comprise every variety, from a hand-bill and 
''broadside** for cottage walls to a commentary on the Bible. In IS42-3 the 
number of publications issued exceeded sixteen millions, and above two hundred 
new ones were added to the Society's list. Since the formation of the Society, 
377,000,000 publications have been circulated in ninety different languages. 
There is one series of tracts adapted for sale by hawkers, in which improvements 
have been successively made at various inter^'als during the last forty years as 
the popular taste advanced; and as some notice of this change will probably 
be interesting to many readers, we give it in the form of a note.* Tho Sunday 
School Union, established in 1802, has an income of nearly 9000/. a year from 

* Soon after the fomuLtiou of ibe Society, small |mlilicalimis uiuall; Bold by itinerant TCndorswere fuuntl. 
Air Ihi uunt port, immoral amt disgusting in tbdr coat«iits; tlic bckt aniuiig llwm wei« alisutd aiid pumle. lu 
1B05, the ottentioD ol the Cotumiltee wtu opecially directed to thctc piiblicatioiu, wbeii it was dceninl cX|mUeut 
to lupply a bett«t article at a lower price tu ilie venilurs. Ttie CunmiillM were obliged, in tlic Stat imtance, to 
prepare tracia with ■trlkiug litla, and in tame df^ree infcriur in their contents, to prevent tnu great a diactvpancy 
ftum thuw they were designed lu supplant. 11m titlea of lome uf them fully evince this :— * The Furtuue Teller '4 
Conjuring Cap,' • The Wonderful Cura of Grueml Naaman/ ' The Stingy Farmer'i- Dream,* ' Tom Toper '■ Tale 
•rcr hii Jug of Ale/ ' Rbymiuj; Dick and the StrolliDg Player/ all Uidieatt that it wu neccMory to cfttch at 




the sale of publicalioas. The City Mission and District Visiting Societies are 
recently L'slablished institutions, fur the purpose of relieving the spiritual and 
tempora.! necessities of the poor in London. The IfOndon City Mission has an 
income of 6700/. a year ; and during the year preceding the last report, 364.369 
Tisitswcre made amongst the poor, in a population exceeding two millions, within 
eight miles of St. Paul's. Wc here place before the reader a summary of the 
Receipts and Expenditure of Religious and Benevolent Societies for 1841-i, 
taken from the 'Christian Almanac* for 1843: — - 

African Civilization Society 
Aged Pilgrim^ Friend 
Anti-Slavery* . • . . 
Daptist Missionary 
Baptist Home Missionary 




BapUst Irish 2,300 

Baptist Colonial Missionary . 507 
Bible Translation (Baptist) . 1,600 
British and Foreign Bible* . 95,095 
British and Foreign Sailors* . 2,500 
British and Foreign School . 7,080 
British and Foreign Tempe- 
rance* 1,100 

British Reformation* . . . 1,508 
Christian Knowledge* . . 90,476 
Christian Instruction , . . 1,428 
Churcli Missionary . . . 93,592 
Church uf Scotland Missions . 4,577 

Jewish Mission . . 5,839 

Colonial . . , 4.160 

Education Scheme 5,684 

Church Extension . 3.403 

—^— Ditto Supplementary 

Fund 1.240 

Church Pastoral Aid . . . 18,000 

Clerical Aid 7,818 

Colonial Church .... 1,700 
Colonial Missionary . . . 2,200 
District Visiting , . . . 250 

Foreign Aid 1,035 

Gospel Propagation • . . 60,213 

Hibernian 7,050 

Home and Colonial Infant 

School (1841). , , , 1.905 


Home Missionary . 


Irish Evangelical, about 

Jews, for Propagation of 
Christianity among the 

Operative Converts 


London City Mission . 

London Missionary 

Lord's Day Observance 

Moravian Missionary . 

National School, annual sub- 
scriptions, about , 

Naval and Military Bible* 

New British and Foreign 

Newfoundland School . 


Prayer Book and Homily* 

Protestant Association . 

Religious Tract* . . . 

Sailors' Home . 

Scottish United Secession 
Mission Fund . 

Sunday School Union • . 

Suppression of Intemperance 

Trinitarian Bible * . . . 








2.81 1 

Wesleyan Missionary 



very tmtiironiwd buihU ; there were, however, many of a better duicription. Bj dcgraat, the wimt of tb« profinta 
aud Ticiou* pulilicAliom weie nuppUiited. Tlie lupply from the Si«ci*ty, of HawVcM* TrscM, faiily met tbnn iu 
the geoer&l market, autl wu gviirnilty prpfetretl wherever eilucatmii liail pxtenHed ; but it woj tilaiii tbtt, hiid aut 
■ nifieriur lUiicle been eiipplied, the uM wretched tmcli would still Imve been forced upon the Sunday lehuo] 
•cboUn, nod i-tben who were acijiiiring llie ability lo read. And in the year 1818, tlte public cry waa diaoged ; 
il va« then gmerally laiil, thii icria tniwt be improved. Thii woi dnne; teveral of tlie old tnict» were di^coii- 
tiauad; and many othen were iutruducetl much superior. — Abridged from the CArilttaH irpecUUor /ur Jvijf, 1S}9. 
* Tbc total uf the noa^U o( the Socictiet tbiu nuuked iiicludei ulei of jiublicatiotn. 



Tho Hanover Square rooms are occasionally used for the meetings of rcligioni 
societies, but the place is not so favourable as Kxeter Hall to the enthusiasm of 
an audience, at least any warmth of feeling which is excited is expressed far less 
lustily, if with more decorum. Freemasons' Hall, a very fine room for the pur- 
pose, is also still used by rcligluus bodies j but there is an increasing disposition 
to assemble at Exeter Hall, which combincB every convenience necessary, and is 
in a good situation with regard to other parts of the town. Our view of the in- 
terior of the great hall represents the great exhibition uf Mr. HuUah's system of 
popular singing, when 2000 pupils combined their voices in the jjcrformances. 
Concerts not unfreqaently take place at Exeter Hull, besides being the place 
where Mr. HuUah's musical classes and the drawing classes |_buth under the 
Committee of Privy Council on Education) assemble for instruction. 




"iiirTfi:Tn!!!3i«ai ' ^-- 

(n* Ouatvon TtfnoB, now Is aoarMor«>*cfla«.] 


Tr one were desired to name the most delightful lounge in the metropolis, 
difficult as the task of selection might seem to be amidst bo many attraclire 
spots, the Zoological Gardens in the Regent's Park must, we think, be the chosen 
place. Equally suited to the young and the old, the solitary and the gregarious, 
the cheerful and the melancholy^ the ignorant and the learned, all are here sure 
of enjoyment at least, and it will be strange indeed if instruction, in some shape 
or other, does not follow. Pacing its broad terrace- walks, or winding about 
among its leafy passages; here idly pausing to glance at some newty-blown 
flower, there (where the unoccupied seat wooes us) at some picturesque com- 
bination of tall waving trees, reflected with all their restless lights and shadows 
in the clear waters of the little lake at their feet, like a second green world 
below ; leaning now against the parapet of the bridge over the tunnel to gaze on 
the comparatively comprehensive view of the demesne thence obtained, with 
the mounts, and dells, and islands, and lawns, and parterres, and rustic habitations 
vo harmoniously intermingled ; and, now^ descending to the stern-looking depths 
keneath, where, with the carriages of fashionable London rolling incessantly over 
yonr head at the distance of but a few feet, you may imagine, without any great 
exertion of the fancy, that you have accidentally wandered into the remote sub- 
terranean habitation of some hermit, who, in this gloom, finds his eyes more 
kiaiarally turn their glance inwards to the contemplation of his own nature, to 
whom this deep silence is dear, since it enables him the better to hear the voice 
of his own heart; — thus or similarly occupied, we might saunter through the 

VOL. V. • 


Gardens without missing or desiring any other sources of interest. But the 
beautiful place has its own proper inhabitants : turn that corner, and you are 
tete-a-tete with a tall dromedary ; cross that velvet lawn, with its richly blooming 
beds of flowers, and you are suddenly arrested by a couching lioness; here you 
open the door of a pretty-looking piece of Swiss architecture, and are in a kind 
of domestic " wilderness of monkeys ;" there, as you are trying to make out what 
fonns there are in the cages on one side of a dark i)assagc, a tap on the shoulder 
majces you suddenly turn in alarm towards the other, where you perceive dimly 
some vast moving bulk, to find the outlines of which your eyes rise higher and 
higher, till at last an elephant's gigantic frame becomes visible, his trunk near 
enough to lake you up, so that he may more conveniently see who yo« are, should 
he bo 80 minded : it is not till we are out of that narrow passage, and secure 
from any mure such surprises, that we can satisfy ourselves that a friendly shake 
of the hand, in elephant-fashion, was most probably all that was desired, unless 
indeed we chose to add thereto any little delicacies from the adjoining refectory — 
trilling but satisfactory proofs of our friendship* which the elephant, in his cordial 
good-nature, never takes amiss. But the number and variety of these inhabit- 
ants! — there really seems no end to them. A visiter who, aflLer spending some 
hours here, sauntering hither and thither, just as curiosity or impulse guided, 
should discover a good half of the collection, would deserve every praise for his 
industry and tact. Still more surprising, rightly con;>idcrud, than even the num- 
ber and variety of the families that compose this strangest of villages, are the 
differences as to the quarters of the globe from whence they have respectively 
come. Listen but to the characteristic sounds that rise from time to time : the 
low growl of the bears from the eternal snows of the Polar regions; the hoarie 
screams and piercing erica of the tropical birds, whose plumage speaks them the 
children of the sun ; the magnificent bay of the Spanish bloodhound ; — but, in short. 
the whole world has been ransacked to people these few acres of soil, where the 
magic of skill and enterprise has overcome all difficulties — reconciled conflicting 
seasons, and tempers, and habits — formed, from the most heterogeneous of ma- 
terials, one of the most thriving, and orderly, and happiest of communities. How 
admirably man can govern everything but himself 1 

At the very entrance-gates of the Gardens, we meet with an amusing illustration 
of the oddities, to say the least of them, that characterise the dealings of men 
with each other, even here. Admission to the Gardens, it may be necessary to 
inform our country readers, is obtained by the presentation of a ticket (admitting 
any number), signed by a fellow of the Societ}', and on payment of a shilling for 
each person. Two young genteel- looking females have been wailing for some 
time, looking with a ]>eculiar air of curiosity in the faces of those who enter ; at 
last, seeing a party of ladies and gentlemen stop for the same purpose — oueof them 
modestly steps up and begs |>crmi8aion to enter as part of their company. Sur- 
prise appears on the face of the lady addressed, but another steps forward, remark- 
^S' "O, yes! it is a common request;" and the whole enter; the money-taker 
at the lodge, who could hardly avoid seeing what passed, making no comment. 
Musing upon this, and remembering our own mode of obtaining a ticket — that 
is, by simply asking for it at a neighbouring tavern — one must be in a serious 




mood to be able to avoid a hearty laugh as we read the announcement care- 
fully set up over the gates, requesting, on the part of the Society, that tho 
lellow» would not give tickets except to persons with whom they were acquainted ' 
The eiFect therefore of this very sensible arrangement is, that uninformed, or 
|>eculiarly scrupulous persons, have frequently to put themselves to inconveni- 
ence to obtain introductions to fellows of the Society, whilst those of a more 
■doubtful character, the very persons whom it might be supposed the Society 
wished to keep out, have only to put on their hat, see that they have got a shil- 
ling in their pockets, and, if they don't choose to trouble the tavern-keeper, trust 
with perfect confidence to the passing in, under cover of some other person or 
party's ticket at the gate. If any of the attendants of the animals were to 
exhibit eccentricities of this character in their treatment of them, we wonder how 
long they would remain tho Society's servants? We are in, however, and more 
agreeable subjects for thought await us. A broad terrace walk extends from tho 
little rustic lodges at the entrance, in a straight line onwards, bordered by flowers, 
shrubs, and trees on each side, and which is now continued at the same level for 
some distance, over the lower ground, by a handsome viaduct, which, when com- 
plcted, and all its roomy cages beneath occupied, will form the most striking 
feature of the Gardens. Here the carnivorous animals, — the lions, tigers, 
leopards, 8cc. are to be located, instead of, as at present, in the Repository, in a 
distant ]>art of the grounds ; and it is considered by having a large space for 
exercise and for the admission of fresh air, set apart for each animal, with a smaHl 
sleeping place behind, that artificial warmth maybe dispensed with, to the advan- 
tage of the animal's health : hence the size of the cages shown in our engraving. 
Branching to the right of the terrace-walk, immediately on our entering, we find 
a winding path among lofty bushes and trees, presently opening on our left, and 
presenting a fine view over tho Park, in the foreground of which the beautiful 
zebra, known as Burcheirs, is seen grazing among other novel-looking inhabitants 
for an English pasture ground; nnd continuing along the same path, on our 
right, appears a series of tall broad aviaries, containing some of those splendid 
domestic birds of the farm-yards of Pc-ru and Mexico, the curassows ', and which, 
in a wild state, are so common in the woods of Guiana that a hungry traveller 
looks upon them as a certain resource when ordinary provisions fail, for their 
flesh is white and excellent, and their disposition so accommodating that they 
will remain perfectly quiet on their perches iu the trees whilst he helps himself 
to his mind and appetite. It may not be generally known that these birds may 
be bred with as much ease in England as our own poultry. Returning to the 
terrace, we may remark by the way, that the accurate * List of the Animals.' sold 
in the Gardens, occupies no less than twenty-eight closely printed octavo pages ; 
and therefore, that in our notice of the Gardens, we can aim only to give a kind 
of general view of their contents, pausing here and there over such details only 
as seem to us of peculiar interest and moment. At the point of junction of the 
terrace walk and the Carnivora Terrace on the right, in a deep square pit, are 
those two amusing climbers, the cinnamon bears, male and female. They arc 
idle this afternoon, and not even a cake will tempt them to mount the tall pole. 
Their prcnomcn i« derived from their handsome brown coats, in which, as well as 

I *2 i 



in locality and in greater ferocity in their natural state, they differ from the Ame- 
rican black bears, of which species they are considered to be a variety : specimens 
of the latter are also to be found in the Gardens. It is these last- mentioned 
animals whose furs constitute so important a portion of the business of the 
Hudson's Bay Company. They are caught chiefly in their winter retreats, places 
scooped out by themselves beneath fallen trees, where they retire as the snow- 
storms begin to fall, and are soon as snugly enveloped as any bear can desire. 
^Tnfortunately, however, the sagacious hunter has a mode of disco\'ering them even 
here: their breath makes a small opening io the snow^ round which the hoar- 
frost gathers : the hunter sees that, and his prey is secure. Descending by a cir- 
cuitous path on the left of the terrace, commanding a charming little bit of 
sccneryt with a lawn and pond in the foreground at the bottom, we find a large 
octagonal cage, splendid with macaws, in all their red aud yellow and red and 
blue plumage ; and who, by their most un-bird-likc tumult, seem desirous to show 
that there is some truth in the philosopher's idea of a kind of compensating prin* 
ciple in nature: it seems we must not expect the songs of the nightingale, the 
lark, or the blackbird from such magnificently arranged exteriors, or tliat the 
last-named birds, whilst enchanting our ears, should at the same time dazzle our 
eyes. The path, now running between the macaws' cage and the llama-house 
opposite, conducts us to the lawn rich with purple beech, and with its sparkling 
little piece of water, dotted over with aquatic birds — among which black swans 
are conspicuous— and with little raised nests or boxes. In the centre a fountain 

** Shakes its loosening silver in the sun." 

A beautiful and very familiar species of Coreopsis geese, from New Holland, 
deservedly attract much attention. They are numerous, and have been all bred 
from a single pain These might be naturalised in our farm-yards, and their 
flesh is said, by some travellers, to be more delicate than that of the English 
bird. The following drawing was made from a pair hatched in the Garden* 



(CorMpw 0«Mi. j 



Whistling ducks, sheldrakes, and garganey toal, are here also to be found. 
The llama house has its large court-yard behind, and both are on a scale be- 
' fitting personages of such importance. At present we see a pair of dromedaries 
arc taking the air in the latter, and putting their heads over the palings to make 
' acquaintance with us, and who could refuse anything to such gentle and expres- 
^sive looks? Finely has the dromedary been called the Ship of the Desert, not 
simply from his being the grand agent of commerce and travel over the vast 
^•eas of sand, but from his very appearance ; that long curving neck, and loftily- 
'iKkme, outstretched head, might have been the origin of the prow of an ancient 
galley. As they here slowly move to and fro, one would hardly suppose they 
are the animals so famous for their speed as well as power ; whose fleetness, 
indeed, has passed into a proverb, in a country distinguished at the same time for 
the finest horses in the world. " When thou shalt meet a heirie," say the 
Arabs, referring to the dromedary, " and say to the rider, ' Salem Aleik/ ere he 
■hall have answered thee ' Alcik Salem.' he will be afar ofi*. and nearly out of 
sight, for his swiftness is like the wind.* In the centre of a piece of pasture- 
ground, adjoining the llama precincts, is a curious little open hut, with projecting 
eaves, raised upon large masses of rock. A horned sheep, the mouilon, is confined 
in it; an animal so little like its parents (for it is supposed to be originally but 
the descendant of some of the common sheep that had escaped from human do- 
minion), as to require to be strongly chained up, where he can do no harm with 
that tremendous bvit of his, which is so powerful as to break down the strongest 
ordinary fences. To the right of the llama house, is a court-yard surrounding 
the base of the viaduct at this end. and lined with cages. Here is the Siberian 
bear, with a broad white band round its neck, and its small sharp-pointed nosoj 
forming a marked contrast with its gigantic round body and head. Here, loo, are 
the wolves, the original, according to our best naturalists, of all the varieties of aug. 
One of the most interesting, though of course by no means the most conclusive 
evidence to be given of this, is its capability of an attachment to man, as strong 
as that of the dog. These Gardens furnish one very striking illustration, where 
a she-wolf some years ago actually killed all her young, in the warmth of her 
zeal, in bringing them to the front of the cage, and rubbing them against the 
bars, to receive the carcases of those persons she knew, among whom Mr. Bell, 
the naturalist, from whom the account is derived, was an especial favourite. 
Among its descendants of the dog kind, if descendants they be, two of the most 
interesting are to be found in close approximation to the wolves — the Esquimaux 
dog, and the Cuba bloodhound, whose deep, yet loud bay. we have before referred 
to. This clean limbed, handsome-looking animal, with his light fawn-coloured 
akin, suggests but little in his appearance, of the terror his very name yet ex- 
cites, under certain circumstances ; and which led to the introduction of a great 
number ofthem, during the Maroon war in Jamaica in the last century, to which 
their very presence put an entire stop, the Maroons being too much alarmed to 
continue the contest. The ordinary use to which these dogs are put by the 
Spaniards is to drive the wild bullocks from the more inaccessible parts of the 
^country, to spots convenient for the hunters, who slaughter them for the sake of 
the hide. They thus obtain the skill and habiu desired for the more terribla 



purposes wlilcli they occasionally subserve under tlie caro of their roasters, the 
ChasseurSj as they are called ; such arc the pursuit of murderers and felons, whom 
it is said they will not harm^ unless resistance be offered. Having stopped the 
fugitive, they crouch near him, and by barking occasionally, guide the Chasseurs 
to the spot; should Lhc miserable wretch but stir, there is a most ferocious growl 
by way of warning. In Dallas* ' History of the Maroons/ an anecdote is given 
of the extent of their accomplishments in this way, which seems truly marvellous. 
A ship, attached to a fleet under convoy to England, was manned chiefly by 
Spanish sailors, who, as they passed Cuba, took the opportunity of running the 
vessel on shore, when they murdered the officers, and other Englishmen on board, 
and carried off all the available plunder into the mountains of the interior. The 
place was wild and unfrequented, and they fully expected to elude all pursuit. 
The moment, however, the news reached the Havanna, a detachment of twelve 
Chasseurs, with their dogs, was sent off". The result was that in a few days the 
whole of the murderers were brought iu and executed, not a man having been 
injured by the dogs in the capture. 

i< tiuurar Mill Cuba BUwdhoudl*) 

Near these dogs arc a miscellaneous collection of American and Indian foxes, 
racoons, the American black bear, and the brown bear, so well known to visiters 
for its amusing antics. It is a bear of excellent sense at the same time. As wo 
approach iU cage, it reminds us of a very proper preliminary by thrusting its 




0QSC between tlte bare, and opening its jaws aa wide as possible; but our stock 
of delicacies is exhausted, so, having waited a reasonable time, without any re- 
sult, it moves away with an air of philosophic indifference, and gets rid of any 
little disappointment it may feel, by a short walk. We are not much accustomed 
to look on these animals with any feeling of respect or gratitude for their services 
to man, yet aak the Kamtchatkan what he thinks of the brown bear; or rather 
a«k him what he does with it, and you will know well enough how he must esti- 
mate it. He will tell yon he not only eats the flesh, but with a relish ; that he 
makes its skin serve for bed, bedding, hat, gloveK, and overalls ; that its stretched 
intestines serve him at once for glass to his windows, and masks to his face, pro- 
tecting it from the sun's glare in the spring ; lastly, that the very shoulder 
blades become useful in the cutting of grass. This is the same bear which was, at 
one time, common in our own country, where however wc have found no other use 
for it than such as the bear gardens could furnish, or those itinerating bear-lead 
ere BO often seen even but a few years ago in our streets, who, taking advantage 
of the peculiar formation of the sole of the animal's foot, taught it to dance for 
exhibition. Several temporary cages and buildings of enclosure are scattered 
about this part of the grounds, in which are gnu antelopes, Mexican and other 
deer (among which the beautiful roebuck delights the eye by its feminine grace 
and delicacy), sloth bears and Malayan sun-bears, the last, the veriest epicures, 
j^rhaps, of the menagerie. In their wild Btatc, the tender young shoots of the 
cocoa nut tree, and honey, form their chief enjoyments, but when domesticated, 
nothing less than the choicest luxuries of the tabic will suffice. Sir Stamford 
Raffles, the founder of the Gardens, had one. which he kept in the nursery with 
his children, and occasionally admitted to his table, where he partook of the finest 
wines and fruit. Sir Stamford says, the only times he knew him out of temper 
•was when there was no champagne forthcoming. In the same building with the 
bears are some beautifully spotted Asiatic leopards, and several of those sub- 
jects alike of ancient and modern fable, the hyainas, both spotted and striped, 
from Africa. Some of the old stories have a touch of poetry about them ; 
according to one, the hyaena was accustomed to imitate the language of men, in 
order to attract wandering shepherds, whom it then devoured. As to modern no- 
tions, one of the females here gives a sufficient proof of their incorrectness: it is, 
in the words of the catalogue, " remarkably tame." After all, it is not unworthy 
of notice, that the popular faith in marvels generally has some foundation, even 
if that foundation and the superstructure do not particularly harmonize. The 
true account of the hyaena, by one who had studied the animal well in all its 
habits, would need no adventitious aid to give it interest. The real stories told 
of it are moat appalling; especially those relating to its love of human flesh, 
as in the case of children, whom it can manage to carr}' off without difficulty. 
" To show clearly," says Mr. Steedman, in his ' Wanderings and Adventures in 
the Interior of Southern Africa,' " the preference of the wolf (Spotted Hyrona) for 
human flesh, it will be necessary to notice, that when the Mambookies build their 
houses, which are in form like bee-hives, and tolerably large, often eighteen or 
twenty feet in diameter, the floor is raised at the higher or back part of the 
hooBc, until within three or four feet of the front, where it suddenly Urminatcs^ 



leaving an area from thence to the wall, in which every night the calves are tied 
to protect them from the storms or wild beastB. Now it would be natural to 
suppose, that should the wolf enter, he would seize the first object for his prey, 
especially as the natives alvrays lie with the fire at their feet ; but notwith- 
standing this, the constant practice of this animal has been, in every instance, to 
pass by the calves in the area, and even by the fire, and to take the children from 
under the mother's kaross, and this in such a gentle and cautious manner, that 
the poor parent has been unconscious of the loss, until the cries of her poor little 
innocent have reached her from without when a close prisoner in the jaws of the 

At some distance beyond the termination of the viaduct, and in the same line. 
a piece of water attracts attention, even more by its own beauty than by the 
variety of its aquatic inhabitants. Small but luxuriantly-wooded islands are 
scattered about the centre, the banks arc thickly fringed with reeds, and bordered 
by elegantly-flowering shrubs, suitable to the kind of scenery indicated ; and 
altogether it is impossible to imagine a much happier existence than these 
waddling, and swimming, and diving rogues here enjoy — these Brent, and Cana- 
dian, and Chinese, and Egyptian, and laughing geese — these tufted, and cross- 
bred pintail, and penguin ducks — these teal, and shovellers, and pochards. In 
his wayj too, the polar bear, in the neighbourhood of the pond, is luxuriantly 
lodged; he has got his comfortable den, and his pool of water, where he may 
swim about, and fancy he is once more breasting the seas of the polar regions, 
swimming his thirty or forty miles at a time, as they have been seen in Barrow's 
Straits. It is true a seal now and then would perhaps make him more comfort- 
able, of which animal ho is the great tormentor ; but Can*t-be is the most per- 
suasive of practical philosophers, and seldom fails in teaching resignation. The 
monkey-poles, close by, are as yet unoccupied, through the coldness of the season, 
so we pass ou to the condor's cage. This bird's real size, which is among the 
largest of the vulture family, measuring occasionally no less than fourteen feet 
from tip to tip of wing, when outspread, is perfectly insignificant compared to its 
old repute, when it was esteemed to be the veritable roc of the ' Arabian Nights.' 
And that there was such a bird who could doubt, after seeing or reading of that 
famous " claw of the bird roc, who, as authors report, is able to trussc an ele- 
phant," which was in the famous museum of the Tradcscants? there was no 
resisting the claw. Fortunately, however, the roc still keeps in his mysterious 
solitude, and the condor proves to be a very different bird ; which is also fortu- 
nate, for as there is scarcely any killing him, but that, such as he is, he must 
remain till he pleases in his own good time to die, there is no saying what 
would become of the world had a race of immortal rocs taken possession of it. 
As an instance of this remarkable tenacity of life in the condor, wc remember 
that Humboldt describes some Indians strangling one with a lasso, who after- 
wards hung it upon a tree, and pulled it forcibly by the feet for some time. 
They then took it down, removed the lasso, and the condor got up and walked 
about as though nothing particular had happened. 

But what is this great pile of rock-work, almost big enough for a human 
habitation, covered with foliage, and surrounded by its own little but deep lake 




of water? The tenant must be of sadly vagrant habits to desire to leave such a 
complete little estate, yet the wire-work over the whole seems to indicate aa 
much. That is the otter's home, one of the great centres of attraction in the 
Gardens at the animal^s dinner-time, when live fish are thrown into the water, 
which he catches with astonishing skill and rapidity. The means at his disposal 
for this purpose have been thus beautifully described : " How silently is the 
water entered ! The eyes are so placed that, whether the animal is swimming 
below its prey, behind it. abore it. or beside it, their situation, or, at most, the 
least motion of the head and neck, brings it within the sphere of the pursuer's 
vision. The whole framework of the animal — its short fin-like legs, oary feet, 
and rudder of a tail — enable it to make the swiftest turns, nay, almost bounds, 
in the water, according as the rapidity of its agile prey demands a sudden down- 
ward dive, an upward spring, or a side snap. The short fur, which is close and 
fine, keeps the body at a proper temperature, and the longer and outer hairs, 
directed backwards, enable it to glide through the water, when propelled hori- 
zontally by its webbed feet beneath the surface, noiselessly and speedily. Easy 
and elegant in its motions, there are few objects more attractive in menageries 
than the pond, especially if it be kept clean and supplied with clear water, 
wherein the otter is seen to hunt its living prey ;" * as is the case in the 
interesting little spot before us. An enclosure eastward of the otter's cage con- 
tains two weazel-headed armadillos, from South America, where the carcases of 
the wild buffaloes, slaughtered as before mentioned, form a never-ending feast 
for these little gluttons, who go on eating and eating, and fattening and fatten- 
ing, till their plump condition attracts the eyes of the human inhabitants of the 
district, who then, placing them on the fire in their shell, make the (for them) 
most delicious of all roasts. 

We have now reached a kind of central spot of the portion of the gardens that 

lies on this side of the Park- road, and a charming little place it is, with walks 

branching ofi*in diUerent directions, each between its own high green and blooming 

banks, with lawns, andbedsof flowers in the centre, a pretty-looking and elegantly 

fumished-building for refreshment on one side, the monkey-house on another, 

the otter and other cages, just mentioned, on a third. The monkey-house has a 

wired enclosure, extending all along one side, for their out-door enjoyments in 

the summer ; but as. it appears, we are not to have any of that almost forgotten 

•eason, in this year of 1843, we must step into the house, if we wish to pay 

our respects to these most amusing of organised beings. For our part, we do 

tsot understand how it is physicians are so otlen puzzled by cases of hypochondria : 

"why du they not send their patients here ? Look at that beau, examining his 

nails with as much attention as if to have a fine hand were the end and aim of 

tnonkey existence. Another, after a series of gambols, for your especial benefit, 

apparently, as a stranger, stops suddenly, and cocks his eye, and tail circling over 

his head, at you with the moat irresistible effect This little fellow here appears 

to bo puzzled to know what we are doing with our note-book and pencil, so 

mounts quietly up the wires, till he can look down upon the paper. As to their 

** * i*eiiDjr Cyclo{MnlJa,' vUcW Oia«r. 


gambols, a school broke up for the holidays seems but a faint imitation. Tlieii 
power of locomotion is familiar to every one. but really, the amazing distance to 
which some of these monkeys can throw themselves (for that word expresses but 
the character of many of these movements), scarcely appears less wonderful 
for the fiftieth than for the first time. Among the other striking features of 
the monkey-house, that our space alone admits of our noticing, is the sonorous bark 
of one of the baboons, the human-like character of that cluster of faces of the 
bonnet monkeys, and the exceeding grace and prettincas of the diminutive 
marmozets. A variety of objects must here be passed summarily over, such as 
the ponds for the American teal, ducks. Sec. ; the beaver enclosure, not yet oc- 
cupied by beavers, or we must have paused there; the building containing the 
family of birds, in which the destructive jjower has been developed to its highest 
extent, the vultures and caglcsj— some of the latter, as the Brazilian Caracara 
eagles, remarkably beautiful; the parrot-house, containing the finest living col- 
lection in the world of the most beautiful of all birds, macaws, cockatoos, parra- 
keots, which combine with the loveliest of kno>vii tints, great docility, imitative 
power, and attachment to those who arc kind to them, in a state of domesticity, 
and where, in cages, are specimens of the terrible tiger boa, and of the siren, a 
kind of serpent, with short arms, hands, and feet ; and the aviary for small birds, 
a handsome-looking semicircular piece of architecture, where among weaver 
birds, and Paradise grackles, and rice-birds, and: mocking-birds, a brilliant scarlet 
ibis especially attracts the eye. Wc now cross the bridge over the mouth of tho 
tunnel, from which the following view is taken, and then pass on to the owls* cages, 
where, at this moment, three arc sitting in one compartment, sido by side, so grave, 



solemn, and Jadge-likej as to provoke ihc remembrance of the old jest oF their 
likeness to a bench of magistrates ; thence to the dove-cote ; and to the cattle-sheds, 
where with a Sing-sing antelope, and a paco^ is kept a bison, a formidable look- 
ing animal, seen thus solitary and in captivity, but which must be indeed terrible 
when beheld almost covering, with their immense numbers, the savannahs of the 
remoter districts of North America, or as when Lewis and Clarke Avalched them, 
crossing a river in such multitudes that although the river was a mile broad, 
the herd stretched, as thick as they could swim together, from side to side. 
In the eagle aviary, among other specimens of the genera, are golden eagles, and 
white-headed sea eagles; from the former of which the young Indian warrior 
has been accustomed to obtain he plume which he so much prizes, that instAncca 
have been known of his exchanging a valuable horse for the tail feathers of a 
single bird, whilst, from the latter, the United States have borrowed their 
national emblem. Franklin has a delightful jmssagc on the habits of this bird, 
and its unfitness for the honour done to it. He says, *' For my part. I wish the 
bald eagle had not been chosen as the representative of our countr}*. He is a bird 
of bad moral character ; he does not get his living honestly. You may have seen 
him perched on some dead tree, where, too lazy to fish for himself, he watches 
the labours of the fishing-hawk ; and when that diligent bird has at length taken 
a fish, and is bearing it to his nest, fur the support of his mate and young ones, 
the bald eagle pursues him and takes it from him. With all this injustice, he is 
never in good case, but like those among men who live by sharping and robbing, 
he is generally poor, and often very lousy. Besides, he is a rank coward : the 
little king-birdj not bigger than a sparrow, attacks him boldly, and drives him 
out of the district. He is therefore by no means a proi>er emblem for the brave 
and honest Cincinnati of America, who have driven all king-birdji from our coun* 
try, though exactly fit for that order of knights which the French call Chevaliers 
il'iuduxtrie ;" and also, for that order, undreamt of by the philosopher and patriot 
and honest man, from whose writings we have transcribed the foregoing passage 
(fortunately for his peace of mind), and as yet unnamed in scientific books, though 
too generally known, by this time, the world over, as the ref/uHiators. Near the 
aviary is another pond for geese, where the wild swans should not be passed without 
notice, not simply as natives of Great Britain which have occupied in past times so 
much Royal attention, but as the species which has in all probability given rise to 
the beautiful fable, so celebrated by our poets, of its dying amid the sounds of its 
own music. And here, again, it seems there is the slightest possible groundwork for 
the idea; its note, which resembles the word hoop uttered several times in suc- 
cession, is said not to be unmusical heard from above, as the birds sweep along 
ill their wedge-shaped array. The last of the objects on this side of the park- 
road, that we shall notice, arc the emus, kept in an enclosure just behind the ter- 
race-walk, toward which we have been circuitously returning. These are among 
the wonders of the animal creation — creatures with wings, that cannot fly, birds 
with the habits and strength of limb of quadrupeds. The emus, for instance, 
kick out like a horse, and the blow is strong enough to break a limb. The 
'family of emus includes also the ostrich, of which an individual specimen has just 
arrived in the Gardens, the cassowary, and the dodo, once thought to be fabulous 

^5 ^^^^m^ LONDON. V 

but now pretty well proved to have existed, though, it is to be feared, existing 
DO longer. 

Having passed through the tunnel, by which the grounds on the opposite sides 
of the park-road are connected, we reach the secludcd-louking spot, completely 
embosomed in Lofty trees, and with steep banks sloping down towards the waters 
«f the Regent's Canal, where the repository is situated in which carnivorous 
animals are at present kept during the erection of the terrace already mentioned. 
On their removal, the present structure, with a new one now building by its side, 
will contain the Museum, which is rich in materials illustrative of the general 
objects of the Society. In the Repository we find additional specimens of the 
leopards, whose tastes, when opportunity is given for their development, seem to 
be in harmony with their appearance. A lady, Mrs. Bowdich, now Mrs. Lee, 
won the heart of one of these animals by lavender water, which it was so extra- 
vagantly fond of, as to be trained into the habflual sheathing of its claws, by the 
mere punishment of the loss of this luxury when it did not. Here, too, are 
pumas, or panthers, often erroneously called lions, as in the case of the late 
Mr. Kcan's favourite animal, which was a puma, and a very interesting specimen, 
as showing the erroneousness of the received opinion that the puma was irre- 
claimable. No dog could be tamer or more docile than Mr. Kcan's Tom, which 
it will be remembered was the gift of Lord Byron. Ocelots, cheetahs, or hunt- 
ing leopards, with lions and tigers, arc to be found also in the Repository. Models 
of strength, and of that beauty at least which results from extraordinary fitntss 
of means for an end, as one gazes long and earnestly upon these latter named 
animals, which have from the earliest ages engaged so much of the world's attention, 
we can partly understand the almost miraculous feats attributed to them. Leaps 
of twenty feet or so are mere bagatelles with both the lion and the tiger ; man is 
like a plaything in their grasp; the powerful Indian buffalo can be carried off by 
them without difficulty. No wonder, then, that the sound of their roar in their 
native forests inspires terror in the bravest man, as well as in the most timid 
beast. Perhaps the most curious proof of the alarm excited by these animals 
is the existence of a little community, whose residence and entire mode of life is 
specially arranged for the avoidance of their attacks. When two travellers, 
Messrs. Schoon and M'Luckie, penetrated into a certain portion of the interior 
of South Africa, in 1829. they found a large tree containing seventeen huts of a 
conical form, built in three tiers on the branches, which were supported by pole& 
the lowest tier about nine feet above the ground. It appeared they were the 
dormitories of natives, who had built them there in consequence of the great 
increase of the lions in the district, after an incursion of a neighbouring tribe, 
when many thousand persons were slain. The ascent was by means of noLchcs 
in the poles, the huts were regularly thatched, and would hold two persona 
conveniently. During the heat of the day, the space beneath the tree afforded 
a very pleasant shade for the owners to sit in. Several deserted villages, built 
in the same way, were also seen by the travellers. Yet who, as they look 
upon the noble creature before us, as we sec him at this moment, answering with 
a kind of proud gentleness the fondling of the lioness, would suppose this to be 
the animal so much dreaded? He mav nut deserve the character for magoani- 



mity he has enjoyed ; but he certainly looks " every inch a king'* of the animal 

Near the Repository is a long range of kennels, for a most complete and valu 
able collection of dogs, who are at present enjoying the air at the length of their 
tethers in front. Here are the watch-dogs from Thibet, the Grecian greyhound, 
the Persian sheep-dog. Spanish bloodhounds, a dog from the Celestial Empire, 
a Spanish mastifT, the famous dog of Mount St. Bernard (of which so many 
romantic stories are told, in relation to its services to travellers and others 
tost in the snows of those Alpine regions). Australian and Newfoundland dogs, 
&c. Our way now lies through a long and narrow leafy ai-enue, the extremity of 
which is lost in the distant foliage, and from which we turn off to the ostrich- 
house, where at present are kept a pair of nyl-ghaus, the largest and most mag- 
nificent of antelopes, and whose strength is commensurate with their appearance. 
Their temper, unfortunately, is none of the best, and woe to that animal who, 
meeting them in their own dense Indian forests, shall be the object of their 
wrath, as they bend their fore-knees, and advance in that position to the spot 
from whence they make their tremendous spring. The wapiti deer (the ass of his 
family, both in stupidity and voice, which is not unlike the bray) is still grander 
in his appearance than the nyl ghau antelope, his common height being four feet 
and a half at the shoulder, or a foot higher than the common stag. This deer is 
kept in the building, with a dark passage running through the centre, before inci- 
dentally alluded to, which lies still farther westward (the direction we have been 
pursuing), with other deer, the elephant, the Brahmin bull and cows (most inte- 
resting animals), and a Cape buffalo, which, unlike the lion, carries, as it were, 
written upon his visage and entire appearance^ a most suggestive history of 
ferocity and irresistible violence. That solid mass of horn covering his forehead, 
like a broad band rising toward the centre into a kind of double hemispherical 
shape, must make his head impregnable, a perfect battering-ram, whenever it 
shall please him so to use it. And many are the stories told by Thunberg, 
Bruce, and other travellers, showing that the buffalo has not the smallest indis- 
position to do so with or without provocation. The elephant-house is the next 
object of attraction, in which we find the stupendous Indian elephant, and 
that comparatively rare animal in England, the one-horned, or Indian rhinoceros 
— the oritnnal. no doubt, of the popular unicorn. The horn of the animal 
here is merely a bony protuberance over his nose, in consequence of his habit of 
rubbing it against the sides of the cage ; in other respects it is one of the largest 
and finest animals of the kind ever exhibited in England. The horn is shown in 
its natural state in the following engraving. A curious trait of this animal — 
a portion, no doubt, of those natural instincts given to it for ita defence id ita 
ordinary state of life — is its liability to excitement from hearing any unusual noise 
When in the yard at the back, the sound of the roller on an adjoining walk has 
made it rush towards the fence in that direction with great violence, and rear 
iUelf up. Considering iu alleged hostility to the elephant, the juxtaposition 
here is curious : and has led. through accident, to a very striking disproof of the 
notion. One day the rhinoceros got into the elephant*s apartment, and so far from 
quarrelling, the two seem to have made a sudden and eternal friendship. One